Choose Your Own Drarry
by Spirit of the Night Owl
Summary: I am writing this, but, as the title suggests, YOU will have to choose where you'd like to go. Sort of...I mean, I will write this with no input from you, the reader, but you will have to choose what chapters to read. In most cases it will be Drarry and it will have several endings. Let's see if this can work. Rated M for possible language and adult situations in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Choose Your Own Drarry  
><strong>(or not Drarry, as it _may_ be in some scenarios)

Okay. I'm going to try something I've been _desperately_ wanting to attempt for quite some time. Do you remember those old _Choose Your Own Adventure_ books? I loved those when I was a kid!

Anyway, here's what Wikipedia has to say about them:

_**Choose Your Own Adventure**_ is a series of children's  
>gamebooks where each story is written from a second-<br>person point of view, with the reader assuming the role  
>of the protagonist and making choices that determine<br>the main character's actions and the plot's outcome. The  
>series was based on a concept created by Edward<br>Packard and originally published by Constance Cappel's  
>and R. A. Montgomery's Vermont Crossroads Press as<br>the "Adventures of You" series, starting with Packard's  
><em>Sugarcane Island<em> in 1976.

_Choose Your Own Adventure_, as published by Bantam  
>Books, was one of the most popular children's series<br>during the 1980s and 1990s, selling more than 250  
>million copies between 1979 and 1998. When Bantam,<br>now owned by Random House, allowed the _Choose Your  
>Own Adventure<em> trademark to lapse, the series was  
>relaunched by Chooseco, which now owns the CYOA<br>trademark. Notably, Chooseco does not reissue titles by  
>Packard, who has started his own imprint, U-Ventures.<p>

So. I'm going to try this format. It's _not_ going to be second-person PoV, but each chapter is going to end with the reader—YOU—having to make a choice.

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

Hope you enjoy. *crosses fingers that I'm able to do this*

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

Harry stood there, right in the middle of his bedroom, staring at Ginny Weasley, his mouth hanging open stupidly in his confusion. He just...couldn't _believe_ she was breaking up with him.

"But..._why_?" was all he could say.

Ginny snorted. "If you have to ask me that, Harry, then there's more wrong here than even _I_ was aware of."

She'd made her decision that morning, when Harry'd left for work. She'd tried—once again—to engage him in sex before letting him out of bed, but he hadn't been interested. He was _never_ interested and she was tired of it. Not that she was a sex fiend or anything, but...well, it just wasn't _normal_ for a twenty-three year old man to not want sex. Was it?

Harry frowned. "How can I fix what's wrong if you won't even tell me."

Sighing, she went to him and curled her arms around him, then pulled him down into a kiss. He kissed her back instantly, but...there wasn't any passion in it. He just kissed because she did. After a few moments, Ginny backed away and stared up at the man she loved.

"You don't want me Harry," she said plainly as she turned and picked up the one bag of things she'd packed. She could—and would—come back for the rest of her things later.

"What are you talking about, Gin?" he asked. "Of course I want you." His eyes went to her shouldered bag and he frowned. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Ron and Hermione's, of course. They said I could crash on the sofa for a bit," she said, biting her lip. "Until you figure things out."

"W-what? That's not fair," he said. "You're leaving me and not telling me why...and going to _my_ friends' house, so I can't even go there and talk to them about this."

Ginny looked at the floor. "I'm sorry, Harry, but...I don't really have anywhere else to go. I just can't face my parents right now."

Harry scoffed. "Are you _kidding_ me? You're the one with parents and _five_ brothers to turn to and you choose the _one_ brother that I'm friends with. _Nice_!" He started pacing. He felt frustrated and alone.

Ginny's eyes welled. "Don't be like that, Harry," she said. "I...I don't know what else to do."

Sighing, Harry ran a hand through his always-disheveled black hair, then nodded. "Fine. I need to know why you're doing this though," he said, almost begging.

"And I need you to figure it out on your own," she responded. "You won't believe me if I tell you. It's just a hunch, mind, but...I think I'm right."

Harry stared at her for a moment, then nodded again. "All right. I'll try."

This caused the tears in Ginny's eyes to streak down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Reaching out, Harry pulled his girlfriend—_ex_-girlfriend, he supposed—into his arms and held her. She clung to him as if her heart were breaking. She was breaking up with _him_, but _he_ felt like the bad guy. "It's...fine, Gin," he said, hoping that he'd figure out what it was he'd done and how it could be fixed.

"You know," he went on, "you could stay here and _I_ could leave."

She shook her head against his chest and held on for dear life. "No. Ron's expecting me."

"Does he know what's going on?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling quite stupid. If his best mate knew _what the fuck_ was going on before _he_ did, then Harry might just... Well, he'd be mortified.

"NO!" Ginny said firmly. "I owled Hermione today and she said it would be okay if I stayed. Ron owled me later, but...I've told them nothing."

Harry sighed, relieved...though he wasn't quite sure why. "All right then," he said, just standing there staring at her.

Backing away, Ginny wiped at her tears. "I'm going to go."

Harry nodded. "You'll check in though, right? I mean, you're not going to disappear on me?"

Smiling sadly, Ginny nodded. "Yeah, I'll check in. And no, I'm not going anywhere, but...I _am_ breaking up with you, Harry. I know you don't understand right now, but you will. And you'll thank me when the time comes. I promise."

Harry snorted. "Don't count on it."

Rushing forward, because she didn't think she'd be able to follow through if she didn't leave now, Ginny Weasley kissed Harry one more time, then rushed to the Floo.

"Take care, Harry," she said. "I'll always love you. No matter what."

And then she was gone.

**~oOo~**

After Ginny left, Harry collapsed onto their bed—_his_ bed—and tried to think about what he might have done to drive her off. He couldn't think of a single thing. Neither he, nor she, were very demanding, so...it's not like one of them had asked the other for something unreasonable. In fact, everything had been going just great. Or so it seemed—to him. Harry was _completely_ confused.

"I need a drink," he said aloud as he sat up. His first thought was the liquor cabinet downstairs—but then he thought better of it and stood up.

_Out!_ he thought. _I need to get out!_

Then his eyes went to where he'd thrown his robes. Being winter, it was fairly cold out, but...robes or a coat? That was the question. Should he hit a wizarding drinking establishment or a Muggle pub? Harry Potter loved magic, but sometimes a man just needed time on his own.

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry Potter go have a drink in a place he's likely to run into people he knows (i.e. a wizarding place)? **_(go to chapter 2)

_OR_

_**Should Harry Potter venture out into the Muggle world to have a drink in "peace"?**_ (go to chapter 3)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of each chapter, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have six chapters written, one of which has a _The End_.

5. I will TRY to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (see number 4).

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. As I've already said (in number 4), one of them comes to an end.

7. It will be a few days (probably) before I upload chapters two and three. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

_**YOU decided that Harry Potter should go have a drink in a place he's likely to run into people he knows (i.e. a wizarding place).**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Pulling on his robes, Harry Apparated straight to Diagon Alley, then made his way to Knockturn Alley—and the seedy drinking establishment that he sometimes entered to garner information for his work. Being an Auror, he frequently had to go to locations he wouldn't otherwise go, but this place wasn't actually one of those places. It _should_ have been, but after coming here a few times on Auror business, Harry quickly found himself comfortable in the dark, dank, almost Muggle-like bar. He'd returned a few times just to have a drink and was mostly left alone.

Tonight, however, the place was fairly full and, as far as Harry could tell, there wasn't a table available—including his _favorite_ table, which was usually empty, almost like it was always left vacant just for him. It was Harry's favorite table, mind you, because it was off in a dark corner, where he could see the entire room and most people couldn't see that it was him. Harry had a reputation to protect, after all—a good, upstanding Auror shouldn't be hanging out in near-sleazy joints like this.

Harry almost chuckled to himself at the thought, because...he really _liked_ this place.

After his eyes adjusted sufficiently to the low-lighting, Harry spotted an open seat at the bar and made his way through the crowd. Noticing a few patrons he recognized, he frowned, wishing he'd placed some sort of concealment charm on himself.

"Oh well. Too late," he mumbled as he slid onto the one available barstool.

Sighing, Harry waited for the barkeep to finish with the customer that was currently occupying his usual table and let his mind wander back to Ginny and the events of the night. He just couldn't _believe_ she'd left him.

"What'll it be Mr Potter?" the barman asked. "And...why haven't you charmed yourself?"

Harry snorted. "I just asked myself the same thing. The usual, I guess," he said. "Didn't think it would be so crowded tonight though."

The man shrugged. "It's Friday night. You're usually a weekday guy," he said as he placed a mug of butterbeer in front of the Auror. "Is this a work related visit?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "No actually. Trouble at home," he admitted. "Ginny's—"

The barkeep held up a hand to silence him and glanced around. There were several people nearby who were quite obviously listening. "Say no more, man," he said. "Gotta have your wits about you here...'specially on a Friday night when there's others 'round.

Harry's eyes stroked the crowd and he nodded. "Right," he said, guzzling down his drink and placing the empty glass on the bar top.

The bartender quickly poured him a second—and one for himself—then pulled out two shot glasses and poured something else, a firewhisky for each of them. "I hear them Muggles mix whisky and beer," he said, picking up his own shot of whisky and holding it over his butterbeer. "Shall we?"

Chuckling, Harry picked up his own shot and dropped it into his beer, then picked up the entire drink and drank. The bartender did the same.

"Hang in there, Mr Potter. Them women troubles never really go away," he said. Then, pouring Harry another beer, the man walked off.

Harry sighed and stared into his drink.

**~oOo~**

"So, couldn't help overhearing your conversation with Bellamy, Potter," came a familiar voice from beside him—Harry didn't have to look to know who it was. "Women trouble, huh?"

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he asked, bringing his glass to his mouth.

"It's a free country, isn't it?"

Harry snorted.

"Is this seat taken," Malfoy asked.

Harry glanced over. "Well, someone _was_ there, but I suppose it 'ppears to be vacant now."

"Brilliant," the blond said, sitting down and placing his drink on the bar top. For a minute or two they sat there in silence, but then... "So, the Weaselette finally figure out you're gay?" he asked bluntly.

Harry's head whipped around then, his jaw hanging agape.

"I'm...I'm not..._gay_!" he protested.

Malfoy snorted. "Could have fooled me," he said, picking up his drink and taking a few swallows.

"I've never once thought about men...in that way," Harry persisted.

Malfoy nodded. "My mistake."

"I haven't!" the dark-haired man pushed.

"Fine. You haven't. Like I said, my mistake," the blond reiterated. "You know, there's nothing wrong with being gay."

"I _know_ that, Malfoy," Harry sneered. "I do have gay friends, you know."

"Actually, I _don't_ know, Potter. I don't really know you, after all, do I?"

Harry nodded. "That's right, you don't!" he snapped, then downed his drink and looked around for the barkeep. "It's just that...I've never even _considered_ kissing a bloke before, let alone all the other things that go along with being..." He couldn't quite say it.

"_Gay_?" Malfoy prompted, amused.

Harry frowned, then nodded. "Yeah...that."

Draco chuckled. "You know, saying the word won't convert you."

Harry turned his head to hide a smile. "Just...shut it, Malfoy!" he said, after getting his face—and voice—under control.

The blond held up his hands, as if to show he'd not say another word—and Harry focused his eyes on the mirror wall in front of them—but then... "So, you want to have a snog? To, you know, test out my theory about you being gay?" Draco asked with a smirk, his voice almost so low that Harry couldn't hear him. Almost.

Harry's head snapped in the blond's direction, his green eyes flashing furiously. "Are you..._fucking_ kidding me?!" he burst.

Draco shrugged.

"Are you even gay, Malfoy?" inquired the dark-haired man.

Draco snorted. "Do you think I'd offer if I weren't?"

For a second, Harry just stared.

Glancing around, Draco spoke before Harry could. "But we shouldn't do it here, if we're going to," he pushed on. "Too many people around, you know? _Someone's_ bound to report it and I don't fancy having my face splashed across the _Prophet_ like my sexual orientation is anyone's business. But, I would like to help if I could."

"And why would you do that?" asked Harry. "You don't even like me."

"Oh, I don't know. You _are_ easy on the eyes, Potter," the blond admitted. "And I've never been one to turn down sex if it's being made available to me."

"Who said anything about _sex_?" Harry hissed—then glanced around to see who might have heard him.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Stop worrying, Potter! I cast a silencing charm on us the moment we started discussing the bloody G-word."

Harry sighed, partially relieved.

"So, what'll it be? Is that a yea or nay to a quick snog?" the blond asked. "You know, in the interest of science."

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry take Draco Malfoy up on his offer of a kiss, in the interest of science, of course? **_(go to chapter 4)

_OR_

_**Should Harry do something stupid like...punch the blond in the face and storm out?**_ (go to chapter 5)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

(repeated from chapter one)

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of each chapter, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have six chapters written, one of which has a _The End_.

5. I will TRY to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (see number 4).

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. As I've already said (in number 4), one of them comes to an end.

7. It will be a SEVERAL days before I upload chapters four and five. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

**_YOU decided that Harry Potter should venture out into the Muggle world to have a drink in "peace."_**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

In a hoodie, jeans, and his favorite trainers—and a Muggle coat—Harry Apparated to London, in search of a pub in which to get falling-down drunk. He walked into a few, but kept walking back out after a few minutes. It was Friday night and every place seemed to be jam-packed crowded—just what he didn't want.

And so, that's how he found himself going to Surrey—more specifically, Little Whinging.

He'd hated growing up there, but still couldn't seem to help himself as his feet took him into the old neighborhood. Standing in front of his aunt and uncle's house on Privet Drive, Harry wondered if they still lived there. A quick glance at the property told him they did indeed live there still—Vernon's vehicle was parked in plain site.

Snorting, Harry Apparated back to London and entered the first pub he encountered. It was fairly dark and surprisingly empty—to Harry's relief—and the woman behind the bar swiftly poured him a drink and sauntered off without any annoyingly intrusive conversation.

But the place didn't stay deserted for long. Harry was sitting there quietly, sipping the drink he'd been brought, and watching the recap of the day's football games on telly—not that Harry followed Muggle football at all—when a small group of blokes walked in, joking and laughing at one another.

"You are such a ponce!" one said loudly to another, causing the entire group to laugh loudly.

"Hey Gurly!" one of the young men shouted. "Drinks!"

"Hold on there, Piers, I'm busy!" she shouted back, only giving her incoming patrons a cursory glance before going back to her task—she was perched on a barstool behind the bar filing her fingernails.

The bloke snorted. "Yeah, I can _see_ that," he said as he headed toward the loo.

The woman laughed and started pouring, then placed six pints of beer on a tray. "Hey D!" she called out to another. "Make yourself useful for once and come get this, yeah?"

The one called 'D' gurgled a laugh, then came forward, kissed the woman's cheek, and grinned at her. "There's a reason why your pub's always deserted, woman," he teased.

She laughed again. "You _know_ I'm closed on Fridays, you great big prat," she scolded—with obvious affection.

"Who closes a pub on a Friday night, Gurly?" the guy asked, then jerked his thumb in Harry's direction without actually looking at him. "And...you let _him_ in."

"He's nice...unlike _some_ people," she threw out.

The guy chortled. "You're completely mad, woman!" he said, kissing her cheek again, then picking up the tray and walking off.

Laughing, the woman called Gurly grabbed her bar towel and started wiping down the bar top.

"I didn't know you were closed," Harry said quietly when she reached him.

The woman grinned. "I'm not _really_ closed on Fridays...I just, don't turn the sign to open, hoping to keep the riffraff out."

Harry chuckled. "You let Big D in," he argued.

She smirked. "Point taken," she said—then narrowed her eyes. "Hey, I'm fairly sure I didn't call him Big D. You know him?"

Harry shrugged. "Sort of," he said, turning just enough to be able to see the group of blokes who'd piled into a booth at the far end of the room. His cousin was still the center of his friends, but things were clearly different. They all seemed...normal. And Dudley, while still a large human, was not at all fat...just a hulkingly big man—he'd grown into himself.

"Well, yeah, I do know him," Harry said, "but...haven't seen him in years."

"Hmm. He's changed a fair bit in the last few years," she said. "So have his friends."

Harry nodded. "Clearly."

"Did you know them too?"

Harry sighed. "Unfortunately."

"Hey, Gurly!" Dudley Dursley hollered from their dark corner. "You have any chips on?"

"Yeah, yeah, coming right up D," Gurly shouted, then looked at Harry. "You want some too?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure. Just...don't tell him I'm here."

Gurly snorted. "He's bound to notice eventually," she said. "No one's ever in here on Fridays except a few regular footballers, which you aren't...so I'm sure he'll take an interest at some point."

Harry frowned.

"My name's Gurly, by the way...as if you haven't heard already," she said, extending her hand.

Harry smiled and put his hand in hers. "Harry."

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'll be back with the chips when they're done...and I'll pour you another drink."

Harry nodded. "Thanks Gurly."

"Any time."

**~oOo~**

Not long later, Harry sat hunched over his nearly empty basket of chips and yet another consumed beer. It was at this time that Dudley came back up to the bar for another round for his friends—and noticed who was sitting there.

"_Harry_?" the larger man said, uncertainly.

Sighing, Harry turned and looked at his cousin. "Hey there, Big D."

Dudley frowned. "W-what are you doing h-here?"

"Actually, I don't live too far from here, but...well, I just needed to get out and this is where I found myself."

"None of your...people...are around?" the blond asked nervously.

Harry snorted. "No. Like I said, I just needed to get away," he said. "How are things with you?"

"Good, actually," Dudley said. "I finished uni 'bout six months ago and I've landed a fairly decent job. Now the wife is talking babies, but—"

"_Wife_?!"

Dudley nodded and grinned. "I know, right?! It's pretty freaky, but...mum and dad seem to like her. And she's great. You should...stop by sometime."

Harry's eyes widened. "I don't know about that."

"Yeah, you should," Dudley repeated. "And...bring your girl."

Harry snorted. "Right. My _girl_! If only I had one," he said—then felt the need to explain. "She dumped me...tonight, actually...that's why I'm out drinking."

"Oh. Sorry," the blond said.

"Not your fault."

Dudley frowned. "Hmm. She figure out you're gay or something?"

Harry stared. "Um. What now?"

"There's nothing wrong with being gay, Harry," Dudley went on, then gestured over at his friends, where Harry saw the guys that made up his cousin's gang from the old days; Piers Polkiss, Malcom, Dennis, and Gordon—and another guy that Harry vaguely recognized as Evan Marks. "Turns out Gordon's gay as blazes...that's why he was always picking on Evan; he _liked_ him. Can you believe it?"

"I...ahh...I have to go," Harry said. Standing, he reached into his pocket and pulled out some money, then frowned, realizing he'd brought wizarding money. "Shite!" he cursed, causing Dudley to look at what he was holding.

"You only have w-wizard money on you?" he asked.

Blushing, Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said, feeling like an idiot as he pulled out his wallet to get his credit card.

"Gurly doesn't take plastic, Harry, she's old school. But...I'll get this," Dudley offered. "It's the least I could do after all this time. After...all the times I treated you so poorly. I feel like I owe you. I _do_ owe you."

Harry shook his head. "You don't, Dudley. It's fine. Really."

Dudley snorted. "It is so _not_ fine," he said. He'd already taken a wad of bills from his pocket and tossed them on the bar. "Listen. Let's hang out. We could...go visit mum and dad. I'm sure they'd love to see you."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, right."

"No really. Mum feels horrible about the way she treated you too."

"Hmm."

"Or...hey, Gordon and Evan were talking about hitting one of their clubs. We could...go with. I've always wanted to see what happens in one of those places."

Harry frowned. "I'm not gay, Big D."

Dudley chuckled. "Yeah. Sure," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "But, what do you say?"

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

**_Should Harry visit his aunt and uncle with Dudley? _**(go to chapter 6)

_OR_

**_Should Harry join Dudley and his friends on an excursion to a gay dance club?_** (go to chapter 7)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

(repeated from chapter one)

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of each chapter, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have six chapters written, one of which has a _The End_.

5. I will TRY to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (see number 4).

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. As I've already said (in number 4), one of them comes to an end.

7. It will be a SEVERAL days before I upload chapters six and seven. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

_**YOU decided that Harry should take Draco Malfoy up on his offer of a kiss, in the interest of science, of course.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

"So, what'll it be? Is that a yea or nay to a quick snog?" Draco Malfoy asked. "You know, in the interest of science."

Harry Potter glanced around again, just to be sure no one was listening, then back at the blond man sitting next to him. "What are you playing at, Malfoy?"

Not wanting to appear condescending, because, if truth be told, he _wanted_ Potter to take him up on his offer, Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but he did sigh. "Nothing, Potter. I'm just offering my services, plain and simple," he said with a shake of his head.

"Out of the goodness of your heart?" the dark-haired man asked, clearly suspicious.

Draco chuckled. "Something like that."

Scoffing, Harry said, "You don't have a heart, Malfoy."

"I will pretend I didn't hear that," the blond haughtily said as he picked up his drink and took a sip, then turned serious eyes on the other man. "Look, Potter, the way I see it, you have two choices. You could walk out that door and quite possibly never know for sure or...you could let me help you."

"There's another option," said Harry. "I could punch you in the face for suggesting such an absurdity and walk the fuck out of here."

"Well, you could, but how...plebeian," the blond said with disgust.

"Malfoy, you're sitting here, surrounded by common people, in a dirty pub...where else is more appropriate for a drunken brawl?"

"Hmm." Frowning, the blond took a sip of his beverage and nodded. "Point taken."

"I'm _not_ gay," Harry repeated, his emerald eyes flashing furiously.

Draco shrugged. "Maybe not, but—"

"_Not_ maybe!" Harry denied. "The thought of kissing you is..." Harry shuddered, repulsed—and Draco pursed his lips.

"Fine then," the blond said, trying very hard not to be offended, "don't let me do it, but...let _someone_, at least. So you know for sure. I'm sure there are _plenty_ of men who would jump at the chance to snog the Chosen One."

"I don't doubt that," Harry scoffed. "And they'd go straight to the _Prophet_!"

"I wouldn't," the blond said simply.

"Right. Because you've _never_ told Skeeter anything about me in the past."

Draco chuckled. "We were children then and it was all in good fun."

"Your 'good fun' was quite painful for me, Malfoy."

Sighing, Draco swirled his drink around and finished it off. "I can't take those things back, Potter. Can't we just...put them behind us?"

Ignoring the question, Harry gave him a pained look. "You _really_ think I'm gay? That Ginny left me because she thinks I prefer men?"

Draco watched the man next to him for a few seconds, then nodded. "I do."

"And...you're serious about this? About...helping?"

"Like I told you, it's not like you're a troll or anything," said the gray-eyed man, grinning now.

"All right then," Harry said after quickly studying Draco's face. "How should we do this?

Draco's eyes widened as if he hadn't expected Potter to agree. Well, he _hadn't_ expected it. "If you're serious, then we'll have to go somewhere a little more private...in the interest of not letting your public know."

Harry nodded. "There's always the loo."

Draco pulled a face. "That's just disgusting, Potter. Besides, if two men walk into a bathroom together, it looks suspicious...we're not a couple of women, you know."

Harry shrugged. "The alley then?"

The blond huffed. He would have preferred to bring Potter home, so that, if the possibility of more than just a snog arose, he'd have the other man in _just_ the right place. "Really, Potter? You want your first kiss to be in some filthy alley?"

"Not my _first_ kiss, Malfoy," Harry corrected. "I've kissed loads of times."

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's going to be your first _real_ kiss, Potter."

"All right. Why not hide our activities with a spell and snog right here?" Harry suggested.

Draco huffed. "You want me to just lean over and kiss you at this sticky bar?"

Harry shrugged. "What the hell difference does it make? It's just going to be quick, to prove to you that I'm not attracted to blokes."

The blond snorted a laugh. "I think you've got that backwards, Potter...I am in no need of proof of anything. You are the one who needs this proof...and when I say _need_..."

"Fine. Whatever," Harry said dismissively. "So where would _you_ suggest we do this?"

"How about my place?" the blond offered with a smirk.

Harry snorted. "I am _not_ setting foot in Malfoy Manor."

"Well, I don't _live_ at Malfoy Manor, so that won't be a problem," Draco countered. "I have a flat in Muggle London. Not far from here, actually. But another possible option is _your_ place."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Not sure I want my sworn enemy in my house."

"Oh, for _fuck's_ sake, Potter, I am not evil. Never have been."

"I know that."

"So, what'll it be? Your place or mine?" the blond asked.

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry take Draco Malfoy back to Grimmauld Place? **_(go to chapter 8)

_OR_

_**Should Harry throw caution to the wind and accompany Draco Malfoy back to his London flat?**_ (go to chapter 9)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

(repeated from chapter one)

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of each chapter, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have six chapters written, one of which has a _The End_. Note/update: chapter seven written (obviously, or I'd not be posting these four new chapters), so now I'll have to actually START writing more. *sigh*

5. I will _TRY_ to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (see number 4).

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. As I've already said (in number 4), one of them comes to an end.

7. It will be a MANY days before I upload chapters eight and nine. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

_**YOU decided that Harry should do something stupid like...punch the blond in the face and storm out—or something like that!**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

"So, what'll it be? Is that a yea or nay to a quick snog?" Draco Malfoy asked. "You know, in the interest of science."

"I don't _believe_ this," Harry said with a snort as he reached into his pocket and pulled out some coins, then stood up. "You're _completely_ mad if you think I'm going to let you kiss me, Malfoy," he said as he set his money on the bar top. Then turning, the dark-haired man started away.

"So...that's a nay then?" the blond called after him, obviously amused by the situation.

Without answering, Harry Potter pushed open the door and walked out into the damp night air. It was cold, but not raining...yet. Shivering, he walked quickly away from the pub, thinking he'd need to find himself another joint to hang out in if stupid Malfoy was going to interrupt his peace. And he'd solved _nothing_ about himself!

"Hey! Wait up!" called a voice—causing Harry to quicken his step, because he knew it was Malfoy.

_I do _not_ have time for this shite!_ Harry inwardly steamed.

"Come on, Potter," Malfoy said as he fell in step beside Harry. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I really did just want to help."

Harry halted abruptly and turned on the other man. Angrily, he grabbed the front of Malfoy's tidy robes and shoved him up against a wall.

"You have _no_ reason to help me and therefore this can _only_ be a trick."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Despite what you might think, Potter, I'm not _always_ up to something."

"That's hard to believe," Harry said as he let go of Malfoy's robes and took one step back. "You always want something."

Draco smirked. "I do want _something_," he admitted.

Harry shifted on his feet. "I said no."

"Yes, Potter, I heard you, _loud_ and clear."

Green eyes rolled. "Clearly not _clear_."

Gray eyes twinkled with mirth. "Why must you be so difficult all the time?"

"_Me_?!" burst Harry, frustrated. "You're the one _following_ me! Do you not know the meaning of the word _no_?"

Draco smiled slyly and took a step in Harry's direction. "Come on, Potter," he said as he reached up and put his palms on Harry's chest, then pushed them up and over his shoulders. The dark-haired man took a step backward—then another—but Draco stepped with him until it was Harry's back up against the opposite wall.

"It's just a little kiss," the blond purred. "And I promise to leave you alone afterwards...if that's what you _really_ want. But only if you _let_ me kiss you."

Harry gulped audibly. "I...ahh...should g-go," he stammered.

Draco shook his head. "I don't think so," he said—then moved in and pressed his mouth down onto Harry's.

For several moments, Harry just stood there. He couldn't seem to move, either to shove the blond away or to respond to the kiss. He felt...frozen. Then he felt Malfoy's knee and thigh push between his legs and rub against his...well, never mind that, but it caused Harry to gasp—which, in turn, opened the _door_ for the blond to push his tongue into Harry's mouth.

And then, for another few moments, Harry tried to resist the other man's persistent tongue, by pulling his own back as far as was possible and wiggling his head from side to side in an attempt to break contact. This only made Draco reach up and grab him by the hair to steady his head, all the while grinding their hips together.

"Come on, Potter," Draco said, "kiss me back. Just this once."

Eyes closed now, his glasses askew, Harry shook his head. "No. This is...wrong, Malfoy."

Draco leaned in and kissed him again. Gently this time. "Why?" he asked, nibbling. "Because we're both men?"

"NO, you _fucker_!" Harry shouted, shoving the blond away, then going after him. Grabbing Draco's robes with one hand, Harry took a solid swing at him with the other—and the blond staggered back under the assault and went down. "_Not_ because we're men, you arsehole. I _told_ you I have no problem with homosexuality. It's wrong, because we've _hated_ each other for _years_! And that's...just _not_ that easy to get beyond, you...git."

After that, Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his messy hair, then held out a shaking hand to help Malfoy to his feet. But the blond just stared at it.

"Come on, Malfoy," Harry said, "take it."

Reluctantly, the blond did take it, but kept his distance from Harry once he was on his feet. From a few feet away, he watched the dark-haired man start to pace.

"Your lip's bleeding," Harry informed him without even looking at him.

Draco licked his lips and winced—the cut burned—then reached into a pocket of his robes and produced his monogrammed handkerchief. Putting it to his mouth, he blotted.

Harry stopped pacing and turned on him. "Look. I'm sorry I hit you."

"Yes. How very _Muggle_ of you, to get physical, Potter."

Harry snorted. "Do you _really_ want to talk about getting physical?"

The blond smirked. "You are well aware that I have no problem with the topic. Or the action."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Let's just not go there, yeah?"

"All right," Draco said, nodding. "But, for your information, I never hated you, Potter. I was just...jealous," he admitted. "I wanted to be your friend, but you chose Weasley."

"You were a _twat_!" Harry said bluntly.

The blond laughed. "Yes, I'm well aware of that now."

"And you're _still_ a twat."

Draco frowned. "That's not fair, Potter."

"Oh, it's not?" Harry asked, incredulous. "You. _Kissed_. Me."

"Yes, but it's not like you didn't know it was coming," the gray-eyed man said in defense of his actions. "And you needed it."

"I don't _need_ to be kissed by you, Malfoy," Harry protested.

Draco smirked. "You liked it though. Don't deny it."

Sighing, Harry shook his head. "I will neither admit nor deny anything."

The blond continued to smile. "So, how about we give it another go?"

"What happened to your promise to leave me alone afterwards?"

Draco grinned. "I said if you _let_ me kiss you. You didn't and therefore I have no intention of leaving you alone."

Harry rolled his eyes and threw up his arms, surrendering. "Fine. Kiss me."

Blinking, Draco pushed his handkerchief into his pocket and took a tentative step forward. "Really?"

Harry shrugged. "Are you going to leave me alone if I don't give in?"

"Absolutely not."

"Well then, seems I have no choice in the matter, do I?" said Harry, obviously resigned to Draco's proposal. "But afterwards..."

The blond nodded, understanding clearly what the other man was saying. "All right," he said—then narrowed his eyes. "You're not going to...punch me again, are you?"

Harry laughed. "If this is the only way to shut you up, Malfoy, I'll agree to almost anything."

Draco narrowed his eyes again, then swooped in and captured Harry's lips a second time. Again, Harry didn't move at first—but then he shifted in Draco's embrace and gave in to the kiss.

It was..._different_ than he'd expected, to have his mouth on another man's. They both had a day's worth of stubble on their faces and it was scratchy. But Malfoy's lips were soft and warm, and yet cool in the damp, night air. And Harry could taste the tangy flavor of blood on the other man; it almost made him stop as he focused on it. But Malfoy redirected him—as if he knew what Harry was thinking—deepening the kiss, giving Harry everything he had.

And he smelled nice too, Harry noticed. _Clean and minty_, he thought, groaning as the blond's hands snaked around, sliding over the curve of his arse and pulling their bodies flush.

"Okay. M-Malfoy," he stammered. "I t-think that's—" But the hands all over him were confusing him. One of them left his arse and came around to the front, cupping him and squeezing.

"You're hard, Potter," the blond said, using the heel of his hand to apply pressure to Harry's clothed cock.

"Mmm," Harry moaned, his eyes open, but completely unfocused.

"Shall I stop?"

The dark-haired man nodded. "Yes. We must. You proved your point, but...please stop."

Instantly, Draco dropped his hands from Harry and backed away. "As promised, I won't touch you again," he said.

"Thank you," said Harry.

Draco wasn't sure what Potter was thanking him for. His promise to leave him alone? Or perhaps his help with the difficult discovery? Or maybe it was just for the kiss? It _was_ a nice kiss, Draco had to admit, if only to himself.

"Good night, Potter," the blond whispered—then Apparated away.

Alone in the darkness of Knockturn Alley, Harry stood there staring at the place Draco Malfoy had vacated—then sighed and Apparated home.

**The End**

(there is NO choice here)


	6. Chapter 6

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

_**YOU decided that Harry should visit his aunt and uncle with Dudley.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

Harry stared at Dudley for a time. A _gay_ dance club with his _not_-gay cousin or visit the aunt and uncle who'd always despised him. Hmm. Or _neither_, he supposed, but suddenly he really didn't feel like being alone.

Shrugging, Harry nodded. "All right then, let's go see those parents of yours."

The larger man snorted a laugh. "Really?"

"_Sure_," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Why the bloody hell not, yeah?"

"I figured I had more of a chance getting you to go out with my friends than go see mum and dad," Dudley admitted.

"Well, granted, I'm not exactly looking forward to seeing Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon after all these years, but...your friends weren't exactly wonderful to me either, you know."

"Point," said the blond man, frowning. "Hey, what do you say I reintroduce them all to you."

Harry shrugged. "All right," he said confidently. As a child he'd hated having to run and hide from Dudley and his gang of bullying friends, but he'd grown up. In fact, he'd grown up into a fairly good-sized man; tall and strong.

_Fuck that!_ he thought. _I defeated the bloody Dark Lord!_

Dudley grinned and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Brilliant!" he said as he steered Harry toward the booth in the back.

"Hey guys," the blond man said as they approached. "Look who I found sitting at the bar."

Everyone looked up—and they all looked uncomfortable when they saw who Dudley had brought to see them.

"You all remember my cousin, Harry, right?"

Silently, Dudley's friends all nodded—and so Harry decided to put them out of their misery.

"Hey guys," he greeted them, sounding very much like Dudley had. "Good to see you all again."

Dudley's friends smiled nervously. "Yeah."

"So, hey. I'm going to cut out of here early and take Harry home to see the parents," Dudley told his friends. "You know, since my little flower is out of town visiting one of her brothers and all...and I have time."

His friends groaned. "Sure. Abandon us," complained Piers Polkiss.

Dudley chuckled.

"All right then," Dudley's friend Gordon cut in. "If Big D is outta here, then so are we." He stood up and grabbed Evan Marks' hand. "Come on, baby...time to go dancing."

Dudley's friends laughed.

"Nice to see you again, Harry," Gordon said. "And...ahh...sorry we were such gits."

Harry shrugged.

Gordon then looked at his friends. "Night guys," he said, then he and his boyfriend left.

"Aren't they adorable?" Piers joked—then pulled a face. "It's _disgusting_! I mean, in an _I'm so glad my friend is happy_ sort of way, of course," he said, grinning.

They all laughed—including Harry.

"Anyway," Dudley started, "sorry to cut our night out short guys, but I really wanted to bring Harry home to see mum and—"

"Say no more, Big D," the one called Malcolm said. "And...say hello to your mum for me, yeah?" he said, arching his eyebrows.

Dudley rolled his eyes, then looked at Harry and explained. "Malcolm's got a crush on mum. Always has, apparently."

Harry frowned.

"I know, right?!" said Dudley, reading Harry's look of disgust perfectly. "Not that I don't love my mum, but...ew."

Everyone laughed.

**~oOo~**

In Dudley's car—a Mini, which made Harry chuckle to himself—they sat without speaking for a time, listening to his cousin's music. Harry didn't recognize it, as he'd pretty much immersed himself in wizarding everything since the time he'd found out he was one. But it sounded okay...the music.

"Who's this?" he asked, not that he'd know the band.

"Oasis. They're my favorite," the blond said with a grin. "They just announced that they're recording their sixth album."

"Hmm. That's good, right?"

Dudley chuckled. "It is to _me_," he said—then frowned and posed a question. "I s'ppose you have your own music?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah. This is good though. Maybe I'll pick up a CD and take a listen." Then he laughed. "I'll have to get a player first though."

Dudley shook his head and laughed. "Your kind is...odd. I mean no disrespect, mind, just...you're different. No offense intended."

Shrugging again, Harry laughed. "None taken."

"And I didn't just mean...your people are different, H-Harry," Dudley continued. "I mean you too."

"Sort of figured."

"I'm so sorry, Harry, I was just...horrible to you growing—"

"Let's not go there, Dudley," Harry interrupted, shaking his head. "It's over. Done. Yeah?"

Dudley glanced over at his black-haired cousin. "As easy as that?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't hold grudges. When I say I'm over it, I am."

Dudley eyed him, then changed the subject. "Hey, grab my mobile there," he said, pointing, "and get mum on the line. I should at least give her a head's up that I'm coming."

Picking up his cousin's phone, which was in the console, Harry frowned at it. "Have to honest, I don't have one of these and I haven't a clue how to use it," he admitted, handing the device to the larger man.

Dudley rolled his eyes and grabbed the phone and placed the call. "Hey mum!" he said.

"Yeah, hi," he said after a pause—while Petunia spoke to him. "Listen, I'm going to stop by. Is that okay?

"No, no, she's not coming," he went on. "She went up to Manchester, to visit one of her brothers, remember?"

"No mum...the other one," he said. "The gay one...Rickon. He wanted her help planning his wedding to that Higgs guy. I think his name's Terence. _Anyway_, mum... _Mum_! That's besides the point right now. I'm going to stop by and I'm bring someone with me—"

"Gotta go, mum...I'm driving," Dudley interrupted his mother. "Be there shortly, yeah?"

"Okay. Bye," he said and ended the call, rolling his blue eyes. "_God_, she's annoying."

Harry laughed. "Are you _sure_ this is a good idea."

"Pfft! Mum can deal with it."

Harry just shook his head.

**~oOo~**

So, when Dudley and Harry finally reached number four, Privet Drive, the dark-haired man suddenly didn't want to get out of the car. This made his cousin laugh.

"You fought a war and won, Harry," the blond said. "This is just mum. I mean, she was horrible to you, but...like I said, she totally regrets it."

Harry frowned, then reached for the handle and got out of the car. "I'm not afraid of her. I just...this is going to be awkward."

Dudley nodded. "True that," he said. "Come on though."

Quickly—quicker than Harry was comfortable with—they walked up to the front door and Dudley just walked on in, shouting, "Mum, we're here!"

"Dudders!" Petunia Dursley squealed, coming into the front hall to greet her son.

Closing the door, Harry waited. His aunt couldn't actually see him around her hulk of a son—again, Dudley was no longer overweight at all, but he was still massive—and Harry wondered if he should have waited outside.

"How are you, Popkin?" the blonde woman asked her son. "You're too thin. Are you hungry?"

"Mum, I'm _always_ hungry, but one of your meals means several hours at the gym...per the wifey," he said. "But I will accept a drink...as will Harry."

And then he stepped aside so that his mother could see her nephew.

"_OH_!" she gasped, her eyes wide and full of fear as she backed into the wall.

"Oh, mother! Stop it!" Dudley scolded. "It's just Harry. Just Harry."

"Good evening, Aunt Petunia," Harry finally said in greeting, smiling slightly. He didn't take a step forward; his aunt was clearly terrified of him.

Petunia sighed. "Hello, Harry," she said, trying not to fidget. "How are you?"

Harry's smile faltered somewhat. "I'm okay, I guess. Not being chased by a madman anymore, so..._that's_ something."

His aunt nodded. "Thank heaven for small favors," she said. "What brings you to Little Whinging."

"Dudley, actually," Harry said with a shrug. "We ran into one another and he asked me to come home for a visit."

Petunia pursed her lips. "How nice."

Harry chuckled. "I could leave."

"Oh no, please do come in," the blonde woman said—then looked at her son. "I think we could all use a drink, Diddykins."

Dudley laughed. "Brilliant!" he burst, quickly moving into the lounge and pouring the aforementioned beverages. "Brandy, mum?" Dudley offered first.

"Hmm," she responded, taking the snifter and consuming a healthy sip. "Thank you, Diddums."

Dudley then poured both Harry and himself two fingers of whisky. "Sorry, no beer in the house."

Harry shrugged. "Whisky is fine," he said, sitting when Dudley did.

And that's when Vernon Dursley entered the house, quickly coming upon them and recognizing Harry immediately. "What the _DEVIL_ is _he_ doing here?!" he bellowed.

Downing her brandy, Petunia stood up and leveled a look at her husband. "Oh, do shut it, Vernon!" she commanded. "Our nephew is visiting and, for once, we're going to be decent to him!"

Vernon's eyes bugged out and his mouth opened and closed several times—and then he went straight to the liquor.

"So, Potter, a visit?" the fat man ground out.

Harry swallowed hard. "Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry said. "Ran into Dudley and...he invited me."

Vernon glared at his son. "Did he now?" he said as he thunked down on the sofa—making Harry wonder if it would hold the older man's massive weight. "Well, what a _joyous_ night."

Sighing, Dudley got to his feet and downed his drink. "Well, mum...dad, we just stopped by to say hi," he informed them. "But we're supposed to meet Gordon and Evan at a club, so..." He eyed Harry, giving him a _get the bloody hell up_ look.

Harry instantly rose. "Right then. Good to see you both," he lied.

Vernon Dursley didn't move, but Petunia got up and followed her son and nephew to the door.

"I'm sorry about that, Harry," she apologized. "I actually _am_ glad you came. And, for what it's worth, I'm truly sorry about..._everything_. I was a horrid aunt."

"Thanks for that, Aunt Petunia," said Harry. "And I accept your apology."

The blonde woman smiled. "Oh. Thank you," she said—then, without thinking, threw her skinny arms around her nephew. But just for a moment, then she straightened up and backed off, then looked at her son. "Please be safe, boys," she said to the both of them.

Dudley nodded. "We will. Promise," he said. "Oh, I'm supposed to tell you that Malcolm sends his well-wishes."

Her face flushing, Petunia rolled her eyes. "That _retched_ friend of yours...he's incorrigible!"

Dudley cackled a laugh—and Harry stifled a snicker.

"Night mum."

"Night Dudders. Night Harry."

Harry smiled. "Good night, Aunt Petunia," he said as he followed his cousin back to the car.

"So, where to?" Dudley asked when they'd settled into his vehicle.

Frowning, Harry said, "Are you sure you should drive?"

Dudley laughed. "I rarely even get the slightest buzz," he said, clearly disappointed.

"Sounds like you need a good Firewhisky?" Harry said.

"That a wizarding drink?"

Harry nodded.

"Humph! Sounds...interesting," the blond said. "Well, what's next? Shall we meet up with my friends or...call it a night?"

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry and Dudley meet up with Dudley's friends? **_(go to chapter 10)

_OR_

_**Should Harry thank Dudley for an interesting evening, but tell him he's ready to go home for the night?**_ (go to chapter 11)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

(repeated from chapter one)

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of each chapter, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have six chapters written, one of which has a _The End_. Note/update: chapter seven written (obviously, or I'd not be posting these four new chapters), so now I'll have to actually START writing more. *sigh*

5. I will _TRY_ to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (see number 4).

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. As I've already said (in number 4), one of them comes to an end.

7. It will be a MANY days before I upload chapters ten and eleven. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

_**YOU decided that Harry and his cousin should join Dudley's friends at a gay dance club?**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

Harry thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah sure. Why not?" he said with a nod.

Dudley frowned. "Which one?"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Sorry. I don't think I'm ready to see the parents just yet, so...let's join your friends for a drink."

Dudley grinned and rubbed his palms together. "_Excellent_. Like I said, I've always wanted to see what the devil they get up to in those places."

Harry laughed again. "To be completely honest with you, I've never even considered _those places_." He paused. "I'd like to stop at home first...to change into something else. I just threw this on..." He gestured at himself—trainers, a pair of ripped denims, and a somewhat baggy hoodie. "...and something tells me it's not at all appropriate."

Dudley snorted. "You _sure_ you're not gay."

Rolling his eyes, Harry said, "Why, because I'd like to change my clothing before going _clubbing_? I _have_ been clubbing before; just not to a _gay_ club."

"Hmm. Guess you've got a point," Dudley conceded, eyeing his cousin's frumpy ensemble. "If you _were_ gay, you'd probably not leave the house looking like _that_. Gordon and Evan wouldn't be caught dead looking like street urchins."

Harry snorted at the jibe. "I'm used to this. Grew up wearing your hand-me-downs. Remember?"

Dudley frowned. "I really am sorry, Harry," the larger man said, blushing. "I was just...horrible. The _family_ was horrible."

Sighing, Harry shrugged. "I shouldn't have brought it up. It's done." It truly _had_ been horrible, but Harry wasn't the grudge-holding type. And so, it _was_ over.

Dudley sighed as well—relieved.

"Besides, I need to pick up some Muggle cash," Harry explained. "Might as well change my clothes while I'm home."

"Hmm," was all Dudley said as he tugged Harry toward his friends. "So. Come on. Time to _re_-meet my friends."

"I'm not dancing, by the way," Harry added, allowing himself to be pulled. "I'm complete shite on the dance floor."

Dudley laughed. "Why am I not surprised."

"So...see? Not gay."

Dudley rolled his eyes. "Not every gay guy can dance, you know," he said.

"Right."

"Gordon's shite at it too...though that doesn't stop Evan from dragging him out there," Dudley said as they headed toward the booth. "Hey guys," the blond man continued when they'd reached his friends. "Look who I found sitting at the bar."

Everyone looked up—and they all looked uncomfortable when they saw who Dudley had brought to see them.

"You all remember my cousin, Harry, right?"

Silently, Dudley's friends all nodded—and so Harry decided to put their minds at ease.

"Hey guys," he greeted them, sounding very much like Dudley had. "Good to see you all again."

Dudley's friends smiled nervously. "Yeah."

"So, hey, since my little flower is out of town visiting one of her brothers and I have time and all...and I've been promising Gordon and Evan that I'd join them some time, I've invited _Harry_ to go out with us," Dudley told his friends. "If that's all right?"

Gordon's brows shot up. "You mean..._out_ out?"

Dudley grinned and nodded.

Gordon and Evan glanced at each other—then at Harry—then nodded. "Sure. That's great!" said Evan Marks.

Piers Polkiss groaned at this. "Sure. Abandon _me_," he complained, because he—on many an occasion—had made it clear that he would not _ever_ be joining them at any sort of dance club. It wasn't the gay thing. He had no problem with his friend being gay. None at all. It was just the too-loud music and the _dancing_. Piers couldn't abide dancing.

Dudley chuckled.

"Your loss, mate," Gordon said, slapping Piers on the shoulder, then looking back up at Dudley. "So. Like. Now?"

"Harry says he needs to run home and change first," Dudley said. "And get some money."

"_Pfft_!" Evan was on his feet now, looking Harry over and waving a hand dismissively. "We can cover the money issue. What you got on under this hoodie?" he asked as he fingered the tan material of Harry's hooded sweatshirt.

"Er. An old t-shirt?" Harry answered. "Um. I think. _Maybe_?"

Evan laughed out loud and, without even asking, took the hem of Harry's hoodie and pulled upward.

Harry didn't resist. Instead he just raised his arms and allowed the other man to remove the article of clothing—his t-shirt riding up slightly as the thicker material was pulled away.

"Not bad, Potter," Gordon said, eyeing Harry's washboard stomach as he pulled his shirt down. "You work out?"

Harry shrugged. "You could say that." It wasn't like he could tell them about his Auror career. "A bit."

"It shows," Gordon said, nodding appreciatively. "_Very_ nice!"

Piers rolled his eyes, but the others all laughed—Harry blushed and fixed his glasses, which were askew from his hoodie going over his head.

"So. I'm thinking there's no need for you to change, Harry," Evan said, reaching up and running his hands through Harry's messy black hair. "Goodness. You've got _great_ hair."

"Do I?"

Evan nodded. "Definitely. You got that _just fucked_ look."

Rolling his eyes again, Piers got up. "All _righty_ then," he cut in. "I'll let you freaks have your fun. I think I'll head over to a club where a bloke can pick up a _bird_."

Everyone ignored him.

"The old t-shirt and torn denims works brilliantly for you, Harry," Evan went on. "You'll have them _crawling_ all over you."

Harry frowned. "Er. I'm not going with to pick up anyone, guys. I just...want to hang out."

"Harry's not gay," Dudley informed his friends—but gave his friends a knowing look.

Gordon snorted. "Right. Okay."

Piers said his goodbyes, as did Malcolm and Dennis—

"_Nice to see you again, Harry," he said as he stuck out his hand for Harry to shake. Harry instantly put his hand in the other man's, then shook the hands of the other two men._

"_Yeah. Sorry we were such shites," Malcolm added._

_Harry shrugged. "No worries."_

—and left, leaving Harry alone with Dudley, Gordon, and Evan.

"Okies," Gordon said, clapping his hands twice. Then, grabbing Evan's hand, he twirled him around once and wrapped his arms around the man, then said, "Come on, baby...time to go _dancing_."

Dudley laughed at their antics—which were clearly normal for them.

"Adorable, yeah?" Dudley joked—then pulled a face. "Isn't it _revolting_?!" he said, grinning.

Gordon snorted, glaring at his friend. "You are _no_ better with that Patty Cake of yours, Big D."

Dudley blushed. "True that," he admitted. "My little flower likes it that way and you know me...I can deny her nothing."

Gordon grinned.

"So. Are we going or..._what_?!" Evan burst.

"Right. Clubbing. Let's go!" Dudley said.

**~oOo~**

At the club, there was quite a line to wait in, but once they were inside, Harry could see why Piers didn't care for places like this. It was _LOUD_! And crowded. And there were _loads_ of shirtless guys dancing. Not that Harry would be joining anyone on the dance floor. _Nope_!

It was interesting though, watching all the nearly naked, sweaty bodies bumping and grinding. Harry was hit on almost immediately, but politely declined the bloke's attentions and moved through the crowd with his cousin and his friends. Seems they had a usual table and were heading toward it.

As they sat down, Dudley was laughing fairly hard. "I'm telling you—"

"Shut it!" Harry bellowed to be heard over the beat of the music. "Just...shut it!"

Dudley cackled another laugh.

"Order me a cosmo!" Evan said as he grabbed Gordon's hand and tugged him toward the dance floor—Gordon shouting, "Just a scotch for me!" as they went.

Dudley laughed and moved to get up. "What'll it be, Harry?"

"Um. You choose," he said, nervous.

Shrugging, Dudley ambled off. Harry watched him. A few blokes approached his cousin, obviously hitting on him too—even Harry could admit that Dudley had grown up into a fairly decent looking man—but Dudley confidently waved them off and ordered their drinks. It took some time, as the barkeep was quite busy, but Dudley waited patiently. Harry's eyes were still on his cousin when someone slid onto the chair next to his and grinned at him.

"Never seen you here before," the bloke said, leaning in close to be heard over the music.

Harry blinked at the guy, then narrowed his eyes as the man moved in closer—_much_ too close for Harry's comfort. And then he frowned as the man's hand dropped onto his thigh and slid upward. Harry sat there, almost frozen, his eyes hardly able to move from the hand squeezing his leg.

"I...ahh...er..." was about all he could manage.

And then Dudley was back—thank _fucking_ Merlin!

"You're in my seat, mate," the larger blond said to the guy—who immediately dropped his hand from Harry's thigh and looked up Harry's cousin.

This caused Harry to sigh with relief as he focused, first on his cousin, who was standing there half-grinning, half-glaring...and then at the other bloke for the first time.

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

_**Should the overly-handy bloke sitting next to Harry be a complete stranger? **_(go to chapter 12)

_OR_

_**Should the guy be someone Harry knows? **_(go to chapter 13)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

(repeated from chapter one)

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of each chapter, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have six chapters written, one of which has a _The End_. Note/update: chapter seven written (obviously, or I'd not be posting these four new chapters), so now I'll have to actually START writing more. *sigh*

5. I will _TRY_ to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (see number 4).

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. As I've already said (in number 4), one of them comes to an end.

7. It will be a MANY days before I upload chapters twelve and thirteen. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

_**YOU decided that Harry should take Draco Malfoy back to Grimmauld Place? **_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight <strong>(from chapter 4)

Digging in his pocket, Harry stood up, then tossed several Galleons on the bar top—then looked at the blond and shrugged.

"My place it is then, I suppose," he said, almost wearily.

Draco's eyes widened. "You're actually going to _allow_ a Death Eater entrance into your humble abode? I'm _stunned_, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes as he moved toward the door. "_Former_ Death Eater," the dark-haired man corrected—then continued tauntingly. "And never a very good one. Also, while it's not Malfoy Manor, my home is anything but humble."

The blond snorted. "I _told_ you, I do not live at the Manor, Potter." He shuddered. "I couldn't stay there after... Well, anyway, I don't live there...as I said. But thank you...for the correction."

Nodding, Harry reach for and pulled open the door, then walked through it. "I suppose we'll have to Side-Along," he said, then turned and eyed the man following him.

"Yes. Unless you'd like to give me your address," Draco suggested. "Then I could just follow you there." He'd been wondering where—and how—the dark-haired man lived, but...the man _did_ seem to like his privacy.

Harry snorted. "I could do that, but I think not," he said, holding out his arm for the blond to take.

Draco tentatively reached out and was instantly transported—into Harry Potter's..._kitchen_? Looking around, he frowned. The place seemed...somewhat familiar, though he couldn't actually remember being there.

The kitchen they were in was quite large; long, but somewhat narrow. In fact, the table that ran the length of the room was a good fifteen feet long, possibly even twenty. At one end of the kitchen was a sink and a door—leading out, Draco supposed—and at the opposite end was a large fireplace. Along the walls were various cooking apparatuses, such as a stove, many pots and pans, and dishes on open wooden hutches.

"Interesting place you have here, Potter," Draco said after a moment. "I...feel like I've been here before."

"I wouldn't doubt it, as this place used to belong to my godfather, Sirius Black."

Draco blinked with surprise. "This is Mother's Uncle Orion and Aunt Walburga's home."

Harry nodded. "Very good, Malfoy," he said. "Though...that would be _past_ tense, as _I_ have owned the home since Sirius was murdered.

"Right," Draco said, glancing around a bit more. He was intrigued. "_Grimmauld_ Place?" he queried, unsure.

Nodding again. "Yes," he confirmed. "But don't strain yourself trying to remember any more. Grimmauld Place has been under a Fidelius Charm for many years, which is why I had to Side-Along you."

"I see," Draco said—then changed the subject. "So, how about a drink, Potter?"

"This isn't a date, Malfoy," said Harry. "You're here for one reason and one reason only."

The blond huffed. "Fine then, let's get to it."

Harry suddenly blushed and looked shy—and wished he had a drink in his hand. "Er. All right," he said, but didn't move.

"Where shall we do this?" Draco asked.

Harry glanced around, then shrugged. "Here's fine, I suppose."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "In the kitchen?" He shook his head. "How about you show me your bedroom."

Harry's eyes flew open. "Nice try, but...no!"

"Your lounge then," Draco suggested.

Harry pondered for a moment. "I guess that'll work. There's a drawing room on the second floor. We can Floo up to there."

Draco frowned. He hated Flooing; it was dirty travel. "Couldn't we just Apparate?"

"No. House is warded to prevent in-house Apparition. I've considered changing that. Putting up different wards, but..." he shrugged, "just haven't gotten around to it yet."

"I see. Well then, I'm sure the house has stairs...I'm not fond of the Floo."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Afraid of a little soot, Malfoy?"

Draco bristled at this. "If you _must_ know, this is one of my favorite cloaks."

"Well, we're not walking up, because I don't want to disturb Walburga's portrait...she's a cunty witch! And we can't Apparate, so it's either Floo up or...do this thing here in the kitchen. Which will it be?"

"_Do_ this thing?" repeated Draco. "Goodness, Potter, you make it sound like I'm going to torture you."

Harry shrugged. "It might just _be_ torture."

Turning, Draco headed for the Floo. "I'll have you know that no one's _ever_ complained," he said. "Not once."

Harry scoffed. "That you know of," he said, following.

"_Very_ funny, Potter," said Draco, turning when he'd reached the fireplace.

The dark-haired man grinned, his eyes twinkling. "After you," he said, raising a hand and gesturing that the blond could go first.

"Drawing room, huh?"

Harry nodded.

The blue flecks in Draco's gray eyes glinted at this. "Harry Potter's _bedroom_," he called out and waited.

Nothing.

"Nice try, Malfoy," Harry said. "My bedroom is warded as well...to prevent anyone from Flooing in without being accompanied by me."

Draco pursed his lips and squared his shoulders and said, "Drawing room!"

Chuckling at the blond's persistence, Harry stepped into the Floo and followed.

**~oOo~**

In the seconds it had taken Harry to join Malfoy in the drawing room, the blond had made himself comfortable on one of the sofas—as if he planned to stay awhile. Harry just stared at him for a moment, then brushed soot from his robes before nervously removing the outer apparel and hanging it up. After fidgeting for another few moments, he turned toward the other man—to offer to take his cloak—only then noticing that the blond had already removed it and draped it over one end of the sofa.

"It's a little dreary in here, Potter," Draco commented, his eyes going about the room. "I hadn't expected this from you."

Sitting on the sofa opposite the blond, Harry frowned. "And what did you expect from me, Malfoy? Sunshine and rainbows?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't actually know. Maybe brighter lighting. Plants. A more comfortable settee, perhaps," he said, squirming slightly on the sofa.

Harry looked around his drawing room, then back at the man across from him. "Well, I'm not a Hufflepuff, so..."

"I suppose not. _Still_."

"Ginny and I talked of redecorating, but...never got around to it. We've both been fairly busy with work."

"Right. She's a Quidditch player and you're the _esteemed_ Auror Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Cut the crap, Malfoy!" he snapped. "You're not doing yourself any favors by annoying me."

"What? It's the truth, isn't it?" Draco asked. "Everyone _adores_ you and the little missus."

Sighing, Harry glanced away briefly, then back. "Gin's _not_ my wife, Malfoy. Isn't likely to ever be now," he said morosely.

Draco smirked at this. "Which is what has brought us _here_," he said, rising to his feet. "Get up, Potter."

Swallowing, Harry slowly got to his feet—and suddenly wished he'd poured them each a drink. A strong one. A _very_ strong one.

"I...er...need to use the toilet," he blurted, pausing...then nodding and heading for the door.

Sighing, Draco sat down again and waited.

And then the Floo flared and Ronald Weasley stumbled through. "My goodness, Harry!" the man burst—then froze when he saw who was sitting on his best friend's couch. "What the _fuck_ are you doing here, Malfoy?!"

"Of _course_ the Floo's not warded against you, Weasel," the blond grumbled, not bothering to get up. "_Obviously_, I was invited, Weasley."

"More like he invited himself," Harry said from the doorway. "Hey, Ron."

Ron blinked, his eyes going from their long time rival to Harry...back to the blond, then once again back to his best mate. "Um. I don't mean to interrupt, but...the women are driving me _mad_," he said as he flopped down on the sofa where Harry had been sitting and tried—very hard—to ignore Draco Malfoy.

Walking back into the room, Harry sat down next to his friend. "What's up, Ron?"

Frowning, Ron said, "Do you know what poppycock Gin's come up with?"

"Er...yeah," he said, throwing a glance at Draco, then looking at Ron again. "She's left me, Ron. I mean, she didn't really explain, but I think I've figured it out."

Not seeing Harry look at Malfoy, Ron snorted. "Ridiculous, yeah?"

Harry shrugged. "Seems so," he said. "I've never considered it, but—"

"I could use a drink, mate," interrupted Ron. "Wanna hit the Leaky?"

"Er...Ron, I just got home," said Harry. "Ran into Malfoy at Bellamy's and..." He shrugged again.

Ron's blue eyes narrowed as he looked again at the blond man sitting there. Draco said nothing; just watched the pair of Gryffindors.

"Why do you always go there and...what the devil's _he_ doing here, anyway?" Ron asked, his nose wrinkling with obvious disgust.

Sneering, Draco stood up. "Well then, I suppose that's my cue to leave," he said, reaching for his cloak.

Harry stood up as well. "Wait. We haven't...discussed what we came here to...talk about.

Draco raised a brow and eyed the dark-haired man, then glanced at Ron Weasley. "Well then, send _him_ on his way and we'll...have our little _chat_."

Harry sighed with relief—he wasn't sure why he was so relieved, but he was—and got up.

Ron glanced from one man to the other, but didn't move to get up. "And I ask, _again_, what the bloody hell's going on?"

"Nothing!" Harry said quickly—too quickly—at the exact same time that Draco snapped, "It's not your concern, Weasel!"

"_Harry_?" Ron said, his voice uncertain—and then it was like a bucket up ice water had been dumped over his red head. His eyes widened. "Harry! You can't be serious!" he said, sitting forward and eyeing his long-time friend. "HIM? Why _him_?!

Harry blushed furiously, but couldn't seem to form actual words. This caused Draco to roll his eyes and shift on his feet.

"There is absolutely _nothing_ wrong with me, Weasley!" the blond snapped.

"Except that you're a _Death Eater_!" Ron roared.

"_Former_!" both Draco and Harry yelled in unison.

Waving his hand, Ron stood up and glared at his friend. "That's just semantics, mate."

"Ooo, _big_ word for you, Weasley!" Draco taunted.

Shut it, Ferret!" Ron burst, clenching his fists at his sides. "This is what I'm talking about, Harry; he's a pillock!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Merlin, Ron, we're _just_ talking!"

Ron's eyes narrowed. "I _cannot_ believe Ginny was right about this. I told her she was insane."

"To be honest, Ron, I can't say whether Gin's right or wrong," Harry said. "I mean...all this has just come about. _Tonight_. And I..." He stopped talking, because he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what to say.

Ron was still glaring. "Well then," he said waving at the blond, "why don't you two have a snog and see if that invokes any feelings."

Draco smirked. "That's what _I_ suggested, but Potter's...reluctant."

Ron snorted. "Well, it's no wonder, Malfoy. You _are_ a git!"

Draco tossed his head, his pale hair fluttering—prettily, Harry noticed—and shrugged. "Your opinion means _nothing_ to me, Weasel."

"But Harry's does, I imagine," Ron said, his eyes going to his friend again. "Harry?"

"Of _course_ it does, Ron," Harry admitted. "But...this _really_ isn't any of your business."

Draco's gray eyes shined almost silver as he preened, brushing confidently at the sleeves of his shirt, then adjusting his tie.

Ron glowered. "Fine then. Have at it!"

Harry just stood there—and was completely taken by surprise when Draco Malfoy moved in on him, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him forward so that their chests came together, and joined their mouths.

It took some time before Harry's brain caught up and he was able to respond. He'd never been kissed by another man and so this was...quite odd. But it was not unlike kissing a female...just that the lips on his were possibly a bit more firm...more persistent, perhaps. Or maybe that was just because it was Malfoy. And his jaw was somewhat stubbly; that was an interesting sensation.

Harry hadn't yet reacted much, except for some slight movement of his lips against the other man's—until Malfoy's fingers wove up into his already messy hair, fingernails raking over his scalp, causing him to groan. This, in turn, allowed the blond's tongue to enter his now open mouth.

Harry couldn't help the moan that escaped his mouth as the blond took one hand from his head and brought it down to the small of his back, pulling him closer—if that were possible.

"_Fucking_ Merlin!" growled Ron Weasley, heading for the Floo. "All right, mate, I am _soooo_ out of here! Have fun!"

Harry heard his friend—and noted the amusement in his voice—but wasn't able to reply. His focus was...elsewhere. Like, on the talented tongue in his mouth and...what was that he felt against his hip.

"Whoa!" he burst, pushing back from the now-disheveled blond man and looking down at the obvious erection, which had just been pressed against him. "Are you—"

"_Hard_?"

His eyes widen, Harry took several steps backward. "Er."

"No harder than you are, Potter," the blond said—then chuckled at the stricken look on the other man's face. "It happens, you know...when one is aroused. And there is nothing wrong with this...with being gay."

Harry blinked. "I'm _not_ gay!"

"Pfft! That thing in your pants suggests otherwise, Potter," Draco said, nodding at Harry's hardness, then smirking. "You now have the _rock-solid_ proof you were looking for."

Frowning, Harry turned to hide his condition—not that it mattered at this point; Draco'd seen it. Draco had _felt_ it!

The blond sighed when Harry said nothing. "Bisexual then," he amended. "It's perfectly normal, Potter."

Harry swung around. "I wouldn't say _that_. There are still quite a lot of Muggles who frown on it."

Draco snorted. "Who _cares_ what Muggles think! Just another reason to question their sanity, I'm afraid. Bunch of daft pricks, as far as I'm concerned."

Harry glared. "You are gaining no points with this line of talk, Malfoy."

Draco shrugged. "Sorry, but it's true. Even _Father's_ been with a man. It's not a big deal."

Harry grimaced. "_Shining_ example," he said, shuddering. "Not exactly proof that pure-bloods' beliefs are any better than those of Muggles. And...would you mind not telling me _anything_ about Lucius Malfoy's proclivities? I really don't give a flying fuck who he's been with!"

Draco huffed. "Whatever, Potter. I'm just saying."

"Well, just..._don't_ say!" Harry snapped.

"I can think of one way to silence me," the blond said, leering suggestively.

Harry stared, incredulous. "You never quit, do you?"

Draco shook his head. "Not if I think there might be something to be gained."

"Like another snog?"

Gray eyes twinkled with mischief as he moved in Harry's direction. "Or a fuck!"

Harry blanched, his eyes wide as he took a step back—and then a few more. "You think...you really think _that's_ on the table?"

Advancing, Draco reached for Harry. "Table...sofa...floor...makes no difference," he said with a shrug. "Though, to be honest, I would prefer the bed. Yours...mine...doesn't matter."

"I...ahh...I think it's time you left, Malfoy," Harry said, stepping again out of the blond's reach. "You've had your fun and I'm...tired." Harry faked a yawn and looked at his watch. "Oh. And would you look at the time. It's late. _Really_ late!"

Stopping, Draco glanced at his own watch and considered the time. It was late, but not _that_ late and...well...he'd _really_ fancy a fuck at this juncture in the evening. His heated gaze then went up and collided with the other man's. Potter's eyes were shifting around nervously. Draco didn't think he'd ever seen Potter this edgy before. Not even when he'd faced the Dark Lord.

On the other hand, if Draco waited, maybe the dark-haired man would give in on his own. And it would be _much_ better if Potter came to him.

"Whatever, Potter," he finally said, heading toward the fireplace. "Your loss." Grabbing some Floo powder, Draco stepped into the opening and turned to face Harry Potter—and tried not to grin at the bewildered expression on the green-eyed man's face. "Find me, if you change your mind," he added.

Harry frowned. "And how would I do that?" he asked.

"You could owl me."

"I no longer have an owl," Harry informed him, his eyes sad. After Hedwig, he'd not been able.

"The Ministry does and...you happen to work there, so..."

Harry nodded. "True."

"Anyway, you're an Auror, Potter. Surely you're capable of locating people," the blond teased, "if the _need_ arose."

Draco's eyes swept down to the other man's groin area—causing Harry to blush. "Yes, but...I didn't know you were hooked up to the Floo Network," he blurted, changing the subject, sort of.

"Until today, you assumed I lived at the Manor," Draco countered.

"Point."

"Besides, why would you have cared?

Harry shrugged. "I guess I wouldn't have."

"So. Potter. Mr Chosen One. You can _choose_ to come looking for me or...not."

Harry nodded—and, not at all sure The Boy Who Lived would come after him, Draco Malfoy threw the Floo powder down and said, "Draco's flat!"

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry **_**choose**_** to contact Draco Malfoy sometime in the near future (like as soon as possible)?**_ (go to chapter 14)

_OR_

_**Should Harry give it some time, perhaps talk to his friends, before contacting the other man (or not contacting him)?**_ (go to chapter 15)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

(repeated from chapter one)

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of MOST chapters, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have NOTHING else written, but will still be writing...if there is interest. *crosses fingers that _someone_ is reading*

5. I will _TRY_ to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (chapter 5 had a "The End").

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. Four chapters = eight choices...eight chapters = sixteen choices...and so on. And so, some "branches" MUST be ended...or rerouted (I have one "The End" and now one reroute). Complicated? Yeah!

7. It will be...IDK...two weeks...before I upload more. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

_**YOU decided that Harry should throw caution to the wind and accompany Draco Malfoy back to his London flat?**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong> (from chapter 4)

Harry thought it over and, in the end, decided he just wasn't ready to allow Draco Malfoy into his home. Not that he believed the other young man to be evil, mind, just that there was _way_ too much past between them to trust him.

And so, after rocking his head from side to side—to loosen his stiffening neck—he glanced at the man beside him and nodded. "Your flat will do, I suppose," he said, wondering if he was completely mad for considering this—and for considering it with _Malfoy_!

It took just about everything Draco had not to grin like a loon. That, of course, wouldn't do; Draco Malfoy could _never_ appear to be _not in control_. And so he too nodded, then got up and quickly, before Potter could dig out his Galleons, paid for both their drinks and left a handsome tip for Bellamy.

"So...are we Apparating?" Harry asked as soon as they were outside in the alley. Harry wasn't a fan of Knockturn Alley and so wanted to exit with haste. This was not to be.

Draco shook his head. "No. My flat's not too far...only a few blocks actually and...it's a nice night for a walk, yeah?"

Harry frowned, but shrugged and followed the blond off Knockturn Alley and onto Diagon Alley, then to—and through—the Leaky Cauldron and, _finally_, out onto Charing Cross Road.

They'd been walking for several minutes in silence when Harry glanced surreptitiously at the other man, then said, "So...ahh...how far is it again."

"Well, I didn't actually say, Potter, but we _are_ almost there. I live in a somewhat new development. Well, that's not completely true. It's more of an old, but _refurbished_, Victorian building on Henrietta Street," Draco explained. "I've only been living here for a short time; eleven and a half months, to be exact. In a couple weeks, I might even have a one year gathering...if you'd like to come, you are welcome."

Harry nodded acknowledgement, but said nothing.

"Here we are," Draco said as he opened one of the two main street doors and held it open for the dark-haired man with him.

Harry hesitated.

"What's the issue, Potter?" Draco asked, looking a bit irritated.

Harry pointed. "Green."

"Yes, it's a _green_ door," Draco said, nodding. "I didn't paint it. Nor did I choose it. Further, there's nothing nefarious about the color green...of any shade," he added, then pointed at it again. "However, if you _haven't_ noticed, Potter, this isn't even Slytherin green."

Harry sighed and mumbled an apology.

"Come on, Potter, I don't have all night," Draco groused—though he actually _did_ have all night.

Snorting, Harry stepped inside.

"I'm on the second floor," Draco explained as he led the way up two flights of stairs.

"Nice building," Harry said, looking around. "Must have cost you a pretty penny."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You _know_ I don't care about that, Potter. Besides, I bought it with my coming-of-age bequest and plan to stay here indefinitely. Anything to stick it to Father." He snickered a bit.

"Hmm. I didn't realize you hated him," Harry said, though he couldn't actually imagine anyone _liking_ the older Malfoy man.

Draco shook his head. "On the contrary, Potter. I love my father...both my parents. But I don't like them trying to control me. Now, with my Black inheritance, I am no longer at the mercy of their whims. It's wonderful!

"Mother's never really been any problem—except for the shopping, which I can't say is too horrible—but...well, you know my father."

"Hmm."

"Try not to sound too put out," Draco said, clearly annoyed. "It's not like he's going to show up here any time soon or put a damper on our night." He winked.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, here we are," the blond said, opening the front door—this time a dark door, almost black—stepping in, and waiting for his once-rival to enter as well.

Harry stepped through more slowly, his eyes taking in the foyer. All he could really see was that it was large and housed several doors and a sweeping staircase. Oh. And a small table and chair under the stairs.

"I'd like to change, if you don't mind?" Draco said questioningly. "I wore this to work this morning and, now that I'm home, I'd like to relax."

Harry shrugged, noticing Malfoy's thick black cloak for the first time. It was wool and obviously Muggle made. Quickly the article of clothing was removed, revealing a stylish light blue button up shirt, cream-colored tie, and tan trousers—all of which were Muggle apparel!

"Shall I hang up your robes with my cloak?" the blond asked.

"Er. All right," Harry said, reaching up and unbuttoning what he was wearing, then removing it and handing it over.

"I'll be right back. Kitchen's through there," Draco said, pointing. "Help yourself if you're hungry. And there's a bar in the cabinet to the right of the telly, in the reception room on the right, if you're interested in a drink. Either way, mix me a whisky sour."

Harry just stared at him, which caused Draco to roll his eyes. "Never mind, I'll make it when I come down. My room is on the next floor up. Be right back."

Nodding, Harry watched the blond go up the stairs, taking them two at a time, then glanced around the foyer, poking his head into the kitchen and having a look around. The kitchen was spacious and bright—even at night—with pale neutral paint and recessed lighting warming the room. It was also sleek and contemporary; which, strangely enough, fit Malfoy perfectly. Previously, Harry would have only seen the blond living in a gloomy place that was filled with large heavy wood furnishings, ancient silver antiques, and dark heirlooms. But then, Harry'd not seen much yet, so that could very well be the case. The kitchen though, was nice. And it had a nice eat-at counter.

Harry opened a few cabinets and looked inside, because he was curious—and just plain nosey—then headed into the main living space. The reception room, as Malfoy had called it, was _massive_! Clearly the large open area occupied the majority of the entrance floor. And it _oozed_ style, with its dark wood floors, a stunning fireplace, full height floor-to-ceiling southeast-facing windows, and _three_ well defined lounge areas that orbited around the central dining space.

The floors, however, were the only dark part about the space, the rest of it decorated with more neutral tones.

There were also two closed doors at the far side of the room. _Bedrooms...maybe_? Harry supposed, wondering how large a place a single person needed. But then, this was Malfoy—and of course the man would _need_ something massive.

"One's a bedroom, the other a bathroom, Potter," came Malfoy's voice from behind him.

Harry turned to find the blond watching him. "I didn't hear you come back," he said, eyeing the other man's _relaxed_ attire—a band t-shirt, comfortable denims, and bare feet. "T-that was fast."

Draco shrugged. "I wasn't sure how long I could get you to stay, so...I hurried. Drink?" he asked, turning. "I see you haven't made it to the bar yet."

"Er. No, haven't. Sure. I'll have whatever you're having," Harry said. "Did you say whisky sour?"

Draco chuckled. "Yes. I'm quite fond of them," he said as he grabbed something, which turned out to be the remote for the telly, and clicked it on.

"I can't believe Mr Pure-blood has a _Muggle_ television," Harry said, shaking his head and sitting on a lovely charcoal gray sectional sofa that was covered with matching gray pillows, as well as beige and cream ones. "If only Slytherin House could see you now."

Draco snorted. "My housemates _do_ come over, Potter. Often, in fact. Pansy's out of town or this little thing that's happening here," he said, gesturing between them, "never would have."

The dark-haired man frowned. "Why? Because _Parkinson_ wouldn't have approved?"

Turning, Draco shook his head. "You misunderstand," he said, bringing Harry his drink. "Take a sip, for Salazar's sake; it's delicious and it'll calm you the fuck down."

Bristling a bit—because Malfoy was still a git—Harry sighed and did as he was bid, nodding his approval as he set the glass down on a tray, which was on a large black cushioned coffee table like thing. "Now tell me what I don't understand."

Draco snorted a laugh, then took a healthy gulp of this drink and sat down as he said, "Now _that_ endeavor is too grand an undertaking, even for me."

Harry just glared.

"_Fine_. I just meant that, if Pansy _weren't_ out of town this week, I'd probably have been invited over to dinner with her and her husband. She married a Muggle! Can you _believe_ it?!" He laughed hard, his gray eyes silver in the lighting. "Her father was furious! Disowned her and everything. But it didn't last. Pansy's paternal grandparents stepped in and smoothed it all over. And when I say 'smoothed it over,' I mean caused a complete ruckus; threatened to disinherit _him_ if he disowned their little Patty Cake. Not that any of them is in need of money, mind. I mean, they don't have as much money as _my_ family, but...well, they're loaded as well, so..."

Harry was smiling through the story, but wrinkled his nose at Pansy's grandparents' nickname for her. "Patty Cake?"

"I know, right?! It's horrible and Pans _hates_ it. And get this, some of her husband's Muggle friends call her that too. They heard Burgess—that's the grandfather—call her that at the wedding and they started in too. It's _hysterical_ to watch her seethe, and there's _nothing_ she can do about it. Though, I have to admit she loves her adoring Muggle husband so much, she'd put up with just about anything."

"Wow. That does _not_ sound like her..._at all_," Harry said.

"So, I'd talked about hitting a club with Blaise tonight, but...then I ran into you, so..." Draco let his words trail off while he watched the dark-haired man and was surprised to see Harry Potter blushing.

And Harry could _feel_ his face go red. Reaching out, he picked up his glass and downed the drink. "That's pretty good, Malfoy," he said, getting to his feet. Glancing at the telly—that was on some random program—Harry sighed and looked down at the sitting man. "You know, I'm not really sure why I came home with you. This is..._sooo_ not like me."

Smiling calculatingly, Draco got to his feet and confiscated Harry's glass, then refilled it and brought it back to his guest. "Let me give you a tour of my house," he said, taking Harry's non-drink-holding arm. "I'm rather proud of it. You've seen the foyer and kitchen. And this area. Basically, I just watch telly in here, but let me show you the rest. Keep drinking," he instructed as he guided the dark-haired man.

"Now. Sometimes Blaise, Greg, and Theo come over and we play Muggle poker here at the dining table. It's small-ish, but it works well for four. Actually, we usually transfigure it into a felt-covered poker table, because Blaise can't stand to use this one."

Harry nodded—but he was having a hard time ignoring Malfoy's hand on his arm.

"But when there's more of us, we gather in _here_," Draco went on, pointing out the area to the right of the dining table. "You know, like when the gang brings their plus-ones. _Hey_! Did you know that Millicent is bonded to Lavender Brown?"

Harry's eyes widened. "No way!"

"_Yes_ way!" Draco said. "We were all surprised, but no one was more shocked than Millie herself. You should see her now. I mean, the woman will _always_ be a brick house, but...her little lioness makes her shine."

Harry smiled. He wanted to burst out laughing at Malfoy's antics. When had the man turned into someone entertaining? Harry supposed that, in his own element, his defenses were down and so he was able to be more open. It gave Harry something to think about.

"Wait. I thought Lavender was one of the...er...casualties of the war," Harry said, confused.

Draco shook his head. "No. Most people think that, but...Madam Pomfrey found her and was able to stop the little cub from bleeding out. Apparently she spent nearly a year at St Mungo's and that's where Millie ran into her; Mills was interning in the Dai Llewellyn Ward under Healer Smethwyck, you see. It wasn't pretty at first...their initial meeting. Lavender went ballistic...and by that I mean wolfie...but Millicent's an Animagus and...well, they've been together since."

Harry frowned. "Lavender's a werewolf?" he quickly deduced.

Draco nodded.

"Wow!"

"I know, right?" The blond paused, then continued, entering another alcove, this time to the left of the dining area, "So, in _this_ room. I mainly sit and read. Sometimes I just sit and stare out the window and watch the Muggles go about their daily business. Funny creatures, they are. Always in a hurry."

Turning then, Draco crossed the large triple reception room and opened one of the closed doors. "Bedroom and bathroom here," he said.

Harry had followed, stepping in and glancing around. "It's very nice, Malfoy," he said.

"I try to keep this one open and in order...just in case I have surprise company. Like my parents," he added, wrinkling his nose.

"That happen often?" Harry asked. "And...can I Disapparate if it does? I ask, because I have extremely strict wards against both Apparation and Disapparation at my place."

Draco chuckled. "No and yes!" he said. "My wards are different than yours, Potter. Anyone can leave, as long as it's from the reception area. Though, you will find yourself transported to the upstairs hallway _only_. It works in reverse as well. Well, sort of, after Apparating to the upstairs hallway, one can Apparate to the foyer...then walk out, if need be. I have it that way so that people can leave quickly, but in steps. If that makes any sense."

Harry nodded. "I get it."

"But Apparating _in_, like your place, is impossible. I had to do that so that friends and family don't just pop in at inconvenient times. Like when Muggles are here."

Harry frowned. "Have a lot of Muggles over, do you?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm a healthy single male who likes to have a good time on occasion."

"I see," Harry said, not sure how he felt about that. "So, how many bedrooms _does_ this place have?"

"Four."

"Why the bloody fuck do you need so much space, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged again. "I grew up in the Manor, Potter, I'm used to having wand room."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Still. What is this...like 235 square meters?"

Draco frowned. "I'm a wizard, Potter, give me square feet."

"Right," Harry said. He'd learned one way of measurement in his Muggle life and hadn't quite gotten used to the wizarding way—while he loved magic and the like, standard measurement made little sense to him. "Um. That's approximately...er...2,500 square feet..._maybe_. I think."

Draco beamed. He'd known what Potter was getting at, but wanted to see him do the math. "2,653, to be exact."

Harry just shook his head. "I still can't see why you need this much space."

The blond frowned. "How big's your place?" he asked.

Harry blushed. "All right. I concede."

"Your house that big?" Draco asked. He was beyond curious now.

Harry shrugged. "It's...large, yes. But, I inherited it and...can't imagine selling."

"Hmm."

Draco then made quick work of showing Harry the other two guest rooms and bathrooms—on the next floor up—then herded the green-eyed man into his own bedroom.

"And this is where _I_ sleep," he said, making a sweeping gesture at the room.

Harry let his gaze rake over the room. It was just as tastefully decorated as the rest of Malfoy's posh home. "You have a lovely flat, Malfoy," he finally said—then started moving for the door.

"Potter. Aren't you forgetting something?" the blond asked.

Stopping, Harry turned around and shifted on his feet. "Er. And what would that be, Malfoy?"

Draco smirked, finished off his drink and set the glass down, then crept forward, in a way he hoped wouldn't chase the Chosen One off. When he was standing right in front of the other man, Draco maneuvered himself so that _he_ was between Potter and the door and took the other man's hand—glass still in it—and raised it to Potter's mouth. "Drink up," he said.

And when the glass was emptied, Draco vanished it and smiled predatorily. "Now, Potter, I do believe you came here for a snog," he said, closing in with his body, his hands going around Harry's waist and then down over his arse, squeezing. Potter squeaked—and _tried_ to get away, but Draco held fast.

"I'm...actually thinking this wasn't such a good idea, Malfoy," Harry argued. "I mean, I _really_ don't think this is necessary."

His eyes narrowing, Draco dropped his hands and pouted. "Now I'm disappointed."

"I'm s-sorry," Harry stammered, feeling badly. "It's just...oh fuck! All right!"

Draco grinned and launched himself at Harry, the momentum taking Harry backward, the two of them crashing onto Draco's massive bed. Harry made a noise like all the air had left his lungs, then gasped for breath. And that's when Draco brought his mouth down onto Harry's.

On Harry's end, it was awkward. He'd never been kissed by a man so he hadn't known what to expect. He kept trying to compare it to the known; to kissing Ginny. It felt the same, but different. Ginny was strong, but this sort of strength was entirely different. Malfoy was dominating. Malfoy's body was pressed against him and it was lean and..._hard_.

This brought Harry to his senses. He stopped.

"Wait!" he said, managing to bring his palms up to push Malfoy off of him. "This is...wrong." He was panting; they both were.

Now lying side by side on Draco's bed, the blond stared up at his ceiling. He was breathing hard and...well...his cock ached something fierce. It was quite frustrating.

"There's nothing wrong with being gay, Potter," he said, feeling as if he'd said it a million times.

Harry turned his head and looked at the man next to him. "No. I don't mean _that's_ wrong. I mean, that feels weird to me too, because...well, I grew up with people telling me it wasn't okay to be queer. But that's not what I mean. I think."

Draco when up on an elbow and Harry followed. They were inches from one another. "What do you mean then?" Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. "Just that...I'm not a girl. I'm never going to _be_ a girl."

Draco laughed. "I know that, Potter. And, believe it or not, I would have _no_ interest in you if you were one, because I'm _gay_!"

Harry laughed.

And Draco cocked his head and continued. "So, I think what you're _trying_ to say is that you'd like to be in control of this."

The dark-haired man shrugged. "I don't rightly know," he said. "Remember, I've never done this...this kissing a bloke thing."

"Well, if you'd give me a little leeway, in the control department, just this once, I'll try to make your first snog brilliant."

Harry opened his mouth to protest and it was like Draco read his mind.

"I _know_ you've kissed before, Potter, but I'm not talking about females. And that first thing we did...let's pretend it didn't happen and start over. I was too eager and you're...too green for that."

Slowly, Harry nodded. "All right then."

Draco grinned and took Harry's hand. "Let's do this right and not have it be the two of us frotting on my bed...since I know you're not going to let me fuck you. I'll be a gentleman and we'll kiss like we've just come back from a date. Yeah?"

Harry sighed with relief. "I'd like that very much, I think."

"Come then," the blond said, pulling Harry to his feet and taking him downstairs to the sofa in front of the telly. They sat down holding hands and...soon they were snogging each other silly. They got a little gropy, but nothing beyond a little light petting. It was nice, as far as Harry was concerned, but confusing too. What the _hell_ was he going to tell Ginny—and Ron and Hermione? He was now quite nervous. Or should he keep this all to himself? He didn't know. All he knew right now was that he liked _men_—kissing them, at least. More specifically, Harry Potter _liked_ kissing Draco Malfoy!

Oh. What to do?!

He'd have to consider the issue later though, because...right now...this was the best snog _ever_!

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry tell his friends about his newfound self-discovery **_(go to chapter 16)

_OR_

_**Should Harry keep it all in, telling no one—after all, it's nobody's business, but his own, right?—like he's done most of his life?**_ (go to chapter 17)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

(repeated from chapter one)

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of MOST chapters, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have NOTHING else written, but will still be writing...if there is interest. *crosses fingers that _someone_ is reading*

5. I will _TRY_ to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (chapter 5 had a "The End").

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. Four chapters = eight choices...eight chapters = sixteen choices...and so on. And so, some "branches" MUST be ended...or rerouted (I have one "The End" and now one reroute). Complicated? Yeah!

7. It will be...IDK...two weeks...before I upload more. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

_**YOU decided that Harry and Dudley should meet up with Dudley's friends? **_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong> (from chapter 6)

"I...ahh...must admit that I'm curious. I mean, I guess I'm interested...in visiting your friends' club...that club they like, I mean," said Harry, stammering a little, because he was _oh_ so confused at the moment. "I'm not saying I'm gay, mind, but yeah, I'll go...if you want, that is."

Dudley laughed—then evened out his features in an attempt to be serious. "Of course you're not," he said—again, trying _very_ hard not to upset his cousin. He was no longer afraid of Harry's magic, but he did value this reconnection and didn't want to jeopardize if because he was being a pillock. "And _yeah_, I want. I've been promising those two twats I'd go and just...haven't. I guess I just didn't want to go alone. But, seeing as I now have a wingman..." Dudley shrugged.

Harry nodded. That made sense to him. "So then...I'd like to change," he said. "Not surprisingly, I dribbled some whisky on myself when your father came in." He motioned at the small stain.

Dudley snorted. "All right," he said, starting his mini.

"Wait!" Harry said. "We just drove...what? Like an hour to get to Little Whinging?"

Dudley shrugged. "Yeah. So?"

Grinning, Harry reached over and turned off is cousin's vehicle. "How about _I_ take us back to London?"

All Dudley could do was gape at Harry. "You m-mean like...like y-your kind?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I mean, it's not pleasant, but I can Side-Along you with me and we'd be there immediately. No wasted hour in the car...plus my changing time...then us driving to the club."

Dudley frowned. "But then my car would be _here_."

Harry shrugged. "And I could bring you back later on tonight. _Or_ tomorrow; you could always stay at mine. I have plenty of space."

Shrugging, Dudley nodded. "All right. I'm game."

Harry grinned. "Brilliant! I'll just Apparate us into my house," he said, holding out his arm. "You'll have to hold on...and not let go. It's _very_ important that you not let go."

"Okay," Dudley said, nodding as he reached out and grasped Harry's forearm.

Harry did the same to him, and they both held on tightly. "Ready?"

Dudley nodded. "Ready."

And suddenly everything changed. One moment they were sitting side by side in his car—Dudley had meant to close his eyes and keep them pinched closed, but he was curious too and so he opened them—and the next he found himself in a very large kitchen.

"Wow!" he burst, glancing around his cousin's long, but narrow—and extremely cluttered—kitchen. "That was like...being shoved through a stretchy straw or something."

Harry laughed. "That's sort of how I described it once too," he said. "_Forced through a very tight rubber tube_, I believe I said. I'm surprised you didn't vomit though. A lot of people do."

Dudley scoffed. "It takes loads more than that to upset _my_ stomach," he said. "Besides...my wife's a witch, Harry." He smirked. "Been there, done this."

Harry just gaped at him. "W-what?"

Dudley shrugged. "Long story...which I'd rather not go into tonight...if you don't mind."

"Yeah. Sure. No problem," agreed Harry—though he was pretty close to pushing the issue. He was _floored_! "Gotta ask one thing though...do the parents know?"

"Mum does, but we're keeping it from dad," Dudley responded. "He'd definitely have a coronary."

Harry snickered—he couldn't help it—not that he wanted his uncle to have a heart attack, even if the man _was_ a prick.

"So. _This_ is the kitchen. Obviously," said Harry. "Warning. I have house-elves. They're sort of creepy...that's why I'm giving you warning...just in case one or more of them show themselves."

Dudley shuddered. "Yes, I remember that one that ruined mother's pudding."

Harry laughed. "That's right. I'd forgotten about that." Then he looked sad. "Dobby died in the war...saving me and my friends."

"Sorry."

Harry shrugged. "Many died. I was very lucky."

There was an awkward pause where Harry seemed to need a comforting hug and Dudley desperately wanted to give him one—but neither moved to embrace the other.

And then the moment passed.

"So. I need to change," Harry said. "You can either stay here or come up with me. The house is big, so I'll Floo up if you want to wait here...or we can walk up if you'd like to see more of the house."

Dudley shrugged. "I'd love to get a look at where you live, Harry."

"All right. This way then."

**~oOo~**

Harry led the way up and into his house, showing his cousin things here and there. He told him about Walburga Black's horrid portrait and warned him to keep quiet as they came out the basement door and onto the ground floor landing. They didn't stay there long though, immediately going to the staircase that went up to the first floor. Here, Dudley grimaced at the house-elf heads on the wall.

"I keep meaning to take those down, but...Kreacher has a complete conniption every time I bring it up."

"_Creature_?"

Harry chuckled. "One of my house-elves," he said—then explained. "He's lived here for decades and wants _his_ head on the wall when he's dead."

Dudley shuddered. "_Gross_."

"I know, right?!" said Harry as they wound around and went up another flight to the second floor. "So. First floor had a drawing room and some bedrooms," he continued, pointing down. "Second floor here has a pretty good library and some more bedrooms. Third floor, master suite, office, another smaller library, and a lady's lounge. Must have been Walburga's...I don't often go in there. The whole place needs to be gutted, actually." He paused and started up yet another level. "I stay on the fourth floor in my godfather's room. I don't know why I've not moved down to the master...I just...I'm not ready. There are just two bedrooms on this floor...and an attic above us."

Dudley nodded—then frowned. "You share a room with your godfather?"

Harry shook his head sadly. "No. Sirius was killed in 1996. I inherited the house after then."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Harry shrugged. "So, this is my room," he said as they entered. "It's a bit juvenile, but..." He shrugged again. "I don't mind. Makes me feel close to Sirius.

Dudley looked around and laughed. "It's very...red."

Laughing, Harry nodded. "Sirius was in the same House at Hogwarts that I'm in..._was_ in." He frowned. "Our colors were red and gold."

"I see."

"Go Gryffindor!" Harry cheered.

Dudley chuckled.

**~oOo~**

On the way back down, they poked their heads into the drawing room—just in time to see Ron, Hermione, and Ginny step through the Floo.

"I'm telling you, Hermione," Ron Weasley was saying. "I was here an hour-ish ago and he _wasn't_ here!"

"I just...need to see for myself, Ronald," Hermione Granger said, brushing soot off her cloak—then nodding smugly. "And look, he's here _now_."

"And he's not alone," Ginny whispered, then bit her lip to prevent it from trembling as she looked at the _man_ standing beside her boyfriend—_ex_-boyfriend, she reminded herself.

"Ahh...hi guys. You remember my cousin, Dudley...right, Ron?" It was said mostly for Ginny's benefit, but Ron might need to be told too.

"I...ahh...yeah, of course," Ron stammered, frowning a bit.

Dudley gave a wave, but said nothing.

"Went out for a drink and ran into him," Harry continued, trying very hard to _not_ look at Ginny Weasley. "We were just going to go out again...with some of his friends. But I wanted to change, because I'd spilled on myself...so we stopped here."

Harry couldn't help himself, his eyes strayed from his friends to Ginny—she looked very upset...sad—then back to Ron and Hermione.

"Would you like us to come along?" Hermione offered.

"Er...perhaps, not this time," said Harry. "I think maybe...it's not a good idea."

Hermione nodded. "We understand," she said.

"We do?" Ron questioned—but was ignored.

"We were just worried," Hermione went on. "Ron dropped by earlier and...you weren't home. And we..." She glanced at Ginny. "Well, we felt like we should check on you."

Harry smiled. "Thank you."

"Of course, Harry," Hermione said, stepping forward and holding out her hand. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dudley. We've been friends with Harry since the beginning of school. I'm Hermione Granger and this is my boyfriend Ronald Weasley and his sister Ginny."

Dudley smiled at the three of them, then took Hermione's small hand in his much larger one. "It's nice to meet you, Hermione. All of you, actually. I'm glad Harry's had friends like the three of you...goodness knows our family wasn't very good to him." He blushed.

Ron snorted and opened his mouth to retort—something not good—but Harry said, "There'll be no more of that, Dudley! It's done."

Dudley gave an almost indiscernible nod. He didn't agree with his cousin and felt there was loads to make up for, but...he wasn't about to embarrass Harry by going on about it.

Hermione, on the other hand, smiled. She was glad to see the growth in her friend—and glad to see that he seemed to be making amends with his relatives. Blood relations were important.

Ron and Ginny just frowned. Ron wanted to kick Dudley Dursley in the teeth and cause some pain. Or hex him, at least, for the shite he'd put Harry through. But he was smart enough to know the actions wouldn't be appreciated—not in the slightest. And so he kept his wand in his pocket, his feet firmly planted on the floor, and his mouth zipped.

Ginny, however, did not stay quiet. Squaring her shoulders she stepped forward to greet Harry's cousin. "Dudley," she said, extending her hand. "Like Hermione said, I'm Ginny. I'm Harry's...ahh..._was_ his girlfriend." She bit her lip again and glanced at Harry.

Dudley nodded and took her hand, smiling sympathetically. "Yes. Harry gave me a heads up."

Ginny sighed.

"Anyways," Harry cut in, "we were going out, so..."

Getting the not-so-subtle hint, Hermione nodded. "Right. I can stop by tomorrow, Harry...if you want. _Yeah_?"

Harry nodded. "Sure. That'd be great."

Taking one last look at their friend, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stepped back into the Floo and were gone.

"Well, _that_ was awkward," Dudley said.

"Right?!" said the dark-haired man, glad they were gone.

**~oOo~**

"Okay, they've been here awhile, so...maybe this was a bad idea," Dudley shouted after they'd waited in a LONG line, paid the exorbitant cover charge, and entered the club that was booming with activity.

Harry shrugged. "We can take a look around," he yelled, "_after_ we get drinks. I think I need to be drunk for this."

Dudley laughed. "Wait. I see Evan," he said, pointing at the dance floor.

Harry turned and saw the other man waving at them enthusiastically, then immediately start to make his way across the room to them.

"Hiya!" Evan screamed, draping an arm over Harry's shoulders. "Table's over there." He pointed.

"I'll get the drinks," Dudley offered. "You go sit, Harry."

Evan grinned and steered Harry away from Dudley and toward the table. Gordon was there—resting apparently. "Look who _I_ found," Evan said, bouncing a little before shoving Harry onto a chair.

Gordon looked at Harry, then at Evan—who smooshed himself in next to his boyfriend. "Dudley too?"

Evan nodded. "He's at the bar."

Gordon grinned. "No _fucking_ way! We've been trying to get his arse here for an age. How'd you do it, Harry?"

Harry just shrugged. "Dunno."

Shortly, Dudley returned with a round of drinks for them all. He sat next to Harry and exchanged conversation with his friends—until they left the table to do a little dancing.

"Gordon'll be back soon," he said. "He can't keep up with Evan."

Harry craned his neck to watch for a bit. They _appeared_ to be enjoying themselves.

"I've gotta piss," Dudley suddenly said. "You all right here?"

Harry nodded. "Sure, sure. You go on."

Getting up, Dudley disappeared into the crowd—but kept an eye on Harry he went. And it was a good thing he did, because, as soon as he was _gone_, some bloke slid in next to Harry and started hitting on him.

Dudley was a bit undecided on what to do. He needed to use the toilet, but he also felt the need to not leave Harry to the overly-handy bloke. And so he turned and headed back to the table.

**~oOo~**

Harry blinked at the guy, then narrowed his eyes as the man moved in closer—_much_ too close for Harry's comfort. And then he frowned as the man's hand dropped onto his thigh and slid upward. Harry sat there, almost frozen, his eyes hardly able to move from the hand squeezing his leg.

"I...ahh...er..." was about all he could manage.

And then Dudley was back—thank _fucking_ Merlin!

"You're in my seat, mate," the larger blond said to the guy—who immediately dropped his hand from Harry's thigh and looked up Harry's cousin.

This caused Harry to sigh with relief as he focused, first on his cousin, who was standing there half-grinning, half-glaring...and then at the other bloke for the first time.

* * *

><p><em><strong>YOU have <strong>_**NO**_** choice here!**_(go on to chapter TWELVE** – 12**)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

(repeated from chapter one)

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of MOST chapters, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have NOTHING else written, but will still be writing...if there is interest. *crosses fingers that _someone_ is reading*

5. I will _TRY_ to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (chapter 5 had a "The End").

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. Four chapters = eight choices...eight chapters = sixteen choices...and so on. And so, some "branches" MUST be ended...or rerouted (I have one "The End" and now one reroute...THIS chapter!). Complicated? Yeah!

7. It will be...IDK...two weeks...before I upload more. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

_**YOU decided that Harry should thank Dudley for an interesting evening, but tell him he's ready to go home for the night?**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong> (from chapter 6)

Harry looked at his cousin and sighed. "As great as it's been to run into you, I really think it's time I call it a night."

Dudley nodded.

"I mean, I have a lot to think about...you know, with Ginny leaving me and—"

"The gay thing," Dudley finished for him.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're not going to let that possibility go, are you?"

Dudley laughed. "Fuck no!" he said. "Not until you at least give it a go...or at least a serious thinking. I mean, I know we harassed you about it a time or two when we were kids, but...it was stupid. _I_ was stupid and...there's nothing wrong with being gay. Hell, I love my friends and, now that Gordon's figured himself out..." Dudley shrugged. "_God_, I can't even _imagine_ thinking any less of him for being the man he is and for falling for Evan."

"Wow. You are _sooo_ not the boy you used to be," said Harry.

Dudley shrugged. "I grew up. We both did," he said. "And hey, it's nice to see that you've grown too...literally, I mean." The larger man grinned. "You're not at all scrawny anymore, eh?"

Harry laughed. "Naw. Seems eating more and time has done me wonders."

Dudley frowned. Harry'd certainly not been fed enough growing up...and had also been denied a lot of things that he himself had had tenfold. "I'm so—"

"Dudley. Stop," Harry interrupted. "Hey, how about you come over for that Firewhisky we talked about?"

"I _do_ have to drive back to London," Dudley supposed, shrugging as he turned the key in the ignition of his car.

Harry grinned. "Yeah, but...let's go back _my_ way," the green-eyed man suggested.

Dudley blinked. "You m-mean like...that disappeary thing y-your kind does?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I mean, it's not the most pleasant way to travel, but I can Side-Along you with me and we'd be there in a snap!" he said, snapping his fingers. "No wasted hour in the car. It's very efficient."

Dudley frowned. "But what about my car? I'd be there and it would be _here_."

Harry shrugged. "And I could bring you back later on tonight. _Or_ tomorrow; you could always stay at mine. I have plenty of space. _Loads_ of empty bedrooms."

Shrugging, Dudley nodded. "All right," he said, turning off his vehicle, then pocketing the keys. "Mum'll wonder why my car's still here, but..._fuck_ it!"

Harry laughed. "Brilliant! I'll just Apparate us into my house," he said, holding out his arm. "You'll have to hold on...and not let go. It's _very_ important that you not let go."

"Okay," Dudley said, nodding as he reached out and grasped Harry's forearm.

Harry did the same to him, and they both held on tight. "Ready?"

Dudley nodded. "Ready."

And suddenly everything changed. One moment they were sitting side by side in his car—Dudley had had every intention of closing his eyes and keeping them pinched shut, but he was curious too and so he opened them—and the next he found himself in a very large kitchen.

"Wow!" he burst, glancing around his cousin's long, but narrow—and extremely cluttered—kitchen. "That was like...being shoved through a stretchy straw or something."

Harry laughed. "That's sort of how I described it once too," he said. "_Forced through a very tight rubber tube_, I believe I said. I'm surprised you didn't vomit though. A lot of people do."

Dudley scoffed. "It takes loads more than that to upset _my_ stomach, Harry," he said—then, almost proudly, he smirked and said, "Besides...my wife's a witch."

Harry gaped at him. "What? You're shitting me! How the hell did _that_ happen?!"

Dudley shook his head and shrugged. "Not shitting you. And..._long_ story...which I'd rather not go into tonight...if you don't mind."

"Yeah. Sure. No problem," agreed Harry—though he was pretty close to pushing the issue. He was _floored_! "Gotta ask one thing though...do the parents know?"

"Mum does, but we're keeping it from dad," Dudley responded. "He'd definitely have a coronary."

Harry snickered—he couldn't help it—not that he wanted his uncle to have a heart attack, even if the man _was_ a prick.

"So. _This_ is the kitchen," said Harry.

"Obviously."

Harry laughed. "Right. I'm good at stating the obvious. Sorry."

Dudley shrugged.

"Okay. So. Warning. I have house-elves. They're sort of creepy...that's why I'm giving you warning...just in case one or more of them show themselves."

Dudley shuddered. "Yeah, I remember that one that ruined mother's pudding."

Harry laughed. "That's right. I'd forgotten about that." Then he looked sad. "Dobby was killed during the war...saving me and my friends. My owl as well."

"Sorry," Dudley said, frowning.

Harry shrugged. "Many died. I was lucky enough to have good friends around to watch my back...and others there who _weren't_ such good friends, but saved me anyways."

There was an awkward pause where Harry seemed to need a comforting hug and Dudley desperately wanted to give him one—but neither moved to embrace the other.

And then the moment passed.

"I remember your owl," Dudley said quietly. "_Hedwig_, was it?"

Harry nodded, smiling.

"I was always _so_ jealous that you had that bloody bird," Dudley admitted. "I tried to get mum and dad to get me one too, but..."

Harry laughed. "She was a good friend. I miss her."

"You haven't gotten another?"

Harry shook his head. "I wasn't ready. I probably should now though."

Dudley nodded.

"So. I'd like to change," Harry said. "If you want a tour of the house, you can come with."

Dudley grinned. "I'd love to get a look at where you live, Harry."

"All right. This way then."

**~oOo~**

Harry led the way up and into his house, showing his cousin things here and there. He told him about Walburga Black's horrid portrait and warned him to keep quiet as they came out the basement door and onto the ground floor landing. They didn't stay there long though, immediately going to the staircase that went up to the first floor. Here, Dudley grimaced at the house-elf heads on the wall.

"I keep meaning to take those down, but...Kreacher has a complete conniption every time I bring it up."

"_Creature_?"

Harry chuckled. "One of my house-elves," he said—then explained. "He's lived here for decades and wants _his_ head on the wall when he's dead...like it's an honor or something."

Dudley shuddered. "_Gross_."

"I know, right?!" said Harry as they wound around and went up another flight to the second floor. "So, the first floor had a drawing room and some bedrooms," he continued, pointing down. "Second floor here has a pretty good library and some more bedrooms. Third floor, master suite, office, another smaller library, and a lady's lounge. Must have been Walburga's...I don't often go in there. The whole place needs to be gutted, actually." He paused and started up yet another level. "I stay on the fourth floor in my godfather's room. I don't know why I've not moved down to the master...I just...I'm not ready. Though maybe, if I get a new owl, it might be time to change some other things."

Dudley nodded. "It's time, Harry."

Harry sighed. "I know. So...there are just two bedrooms on this floor," he said as they reached the fourth floor landing. "And a gigantic attic above us."

Dudley nodded—then frowned. "You share a room with your godfather?"

Harry shook his head sadly. "No. Sirius was killed in 1996. I inherited the house after then."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Harry shrugged. "So, this is my room," he said as they entered. "It's a bit juvenile, but..." He shrugged. "I don't mind. Makes me feel close to Sirius.

Dudley looked around and laughed. "It's very...red."

Laughing, Harry nodded. "Sirius was in the same House at Hogwarts that I'm in..._was_ in," he corrected, frowning. "Our colors were red and gold."

"I see."

"Go Gryffindor!" Harry cheered.

Dudley chuckled.

**~oOo~**

On the way back down, Harry led them into the drawing room, where he planned for them to hang out—just in time to see Ron, Hermione, and Ginny step through the Floo.

"I'm telling you, Hermione," Ron Weasley was saying. "I was here an hour-ish ago and he _wasn't_ here!"

"I just...need to see for myself, Ronald," Hermione Granger said, brushing soot off her cloak—then nodding smugly. "And look, he's here _now_."

"And he's not alone," Ginny whispered, her eyes wide as she bit down on her lip to prevent it from trembling. She couldn't help but stare at the _man_ standing beside her boyfriend—_ex_-boyfriend, she had to remind herself.

"Ahh...hi guys. You remember my cousin, Dudley...right, Ron?" It was said mostly for Ginny's benefit—despite everything, he didn't want her to get the wrong idea—but Ron might need to be told too.

"I...ahh...yeah, of course," Ron stammered, frowning a bit.

Dudley gave a wave, but said nothing.

"Went out for a drink and ran into him," Harry continued, trying very hard to _not_ look at Ginny Weasley. "We talked about going out again...with some of Dudley's friends...but...I just sort of wanted to come home instead. So I brought Dudley with."

Harry couldn't help himself, his eyes strayed from his friends to Ginny—she looked very upset...sad—then back to Ron and Hermione.

"Oh. Sorry to just barge in," said Hermione, always the quickest to recover.

Harry shrugged. "It's fine. You know you're always welcome," he said, his eyes straying to Ginny. "All of you are. Always."

Hermione grinned. "Thank you, Harry," she said—then grabbed Ron's shirt sleeve and tugged a little. "We won't stay. We were just worried. Ron dropped by earlier and you weren't home. And we..." She glanced at Ginny. "Well, we felt like we should check on you."

Harry smiled. "Thank you."

"Of course, Harry," Hermione said, stepping forward and holding out her hand. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dudley. We've been friends with Harry since the beginning of school. I'm Hermione Granger and this is my boyfriend Ronald Weasley and his sister Ginny."

Dudley smiled at the three of them, then took Hermione's small hand in his much larger one. "It's nice to meet you, Hermione. All of you, actually. I'm glad Harry's had friends like the three of you...goodness knows our family wasn't very good to him." He blushed.

Ron snorted and opened his mouth to retort—something not at all nice—but Harry said, "There'll be no more of that, Dudley! It's done."

Dudley gave an almost indiscernible nod. He didn't agree with his cousin and felt there was loads to make up for, but...he wasn't about to embarrass Harry by going on about it.

Hermione, on the other hand, smiled. She was glad to see the growth in her friend—and glad to see that he seemed to be making amends with his relatives. Blood relations were important.

Ron and Ginny just frowned. Ron wanted to kick Dudley Dursley in the teeth and cause some pain. Or hex him, at least, for the shite he'd put Harry through. But he was smart enough to know the actions wouldn't be appreciated—not in the slightest. And so he kept his wand in his pocket, his feet firmly planted on the floor, and his mouth zipped.

Ginny, however, did not stay quiet. Squaring her shoulders she stepped forward to greet Harry's cousin. "Dudley," she said, extending her hand. "Like Hermione said, I'm Ginny. I'm Harry's...ahh..._was_ his girlfriend." She bit her lip again and glanced at Harry.

Dudley nodded and took her hand, smiling sympathetically. "Yes. Harry gave me a heads up. Sort of."

Ginny blushed crimson and looked at her feet.

"Anyways," Harry cut in, "we were just going to have a drink. You're all welcome to join us...if you want."

"Yeah, don't leave on my account," Dudley added. "I'm more than willing to get to know Harry's friends...after all these years."

The three exchanged looks. It was clear that Hermione _wanted_ to stay...as much as Ginny appeared ready to bolt. Not out of fear, mind you...no self-respecting Gryffindor would be afraid of visiting with a Muggle, _especially_ a Weasley. Ron, on the other hand, looked confused. He would probably leave is Hermione did, even though his first instinct was to stomp out with his sister.

"So...what'll it be, guys? Firewhisky's all around?" Harry asked, grinning.

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry's best friends stay for a drink—or three? **_(go to chapter 18)

_OR_

_**Should Ron, Hermione, and Ginny bow out and let their friend have the evening alone with his cousin ? **_(go to chapter 19)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

(repeated from chapter one)

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of MOST chapters, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have NOTHING else written, but will still be writing...if there is interest. *crosses fingers that _someone_ is reading*

5. I will _TRY_ to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (chapter 5 had a "The End").

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. Four chapters = eight choices...eight chapters = sixteen choices...and so on. And so, some "branches" MUST be ended...or rerouted (I have one "The End" and now one reroute). Complicated? Yeah!

7. It will be...IDK...two weeks...before I upload more. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

Further **author's note** (instructions/directions)...please read...

_You may have been just following __**directions**__...chapter-wise...or you may have had a __**decision**__ to make...depending on where you came from (to this chapter)._

_If_ you came from **chapter seven**, then_** YOU decided that the overly-handy bloke sitting next to Harry should be a complete stranger?**_

However, _if_ you came from **chapter ten**, then_ you had __**no choice**__ at all—sorry!—and are just along for the ride. The bright side about having no choice in the last chapter, is that you get a new chapter RIGHT NOW!_

_**Enjoy...**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve<strong>

The guy had brown eyes, dark hair that was tousled and slightly sweaty, and a flushed face from lots of movement; he'd clearly been on the dance floor and wanted to go back. But first he had to deal with the situation.

"You his boyfriend?" Mr Tousled-n-Sweaty asked Dudley.

"Um. _No_," Dudley all but shouted. "He's my _cousin_ and...you're _still_ in my seat."

Huffing, the bloke got to his feet, then grinned down at Harry. "So never seen _you_ here before," he repeated, having to shout to be heard over the music. "Care to dance?" he asked.

"Er. Thank you, but no," Harry responded politely, watching as Dudley sat next to him. "I'm just here to watch, I'm afraid."

"What ever _for_? That's no fun," the guy said, wrinkling his pert nose.

Harry shrugged. "To see what a place of this sort is like," he replied honestly.

"Then you should at least _try_ out the dance floor," the guy pushed. "Can't very well go to a club and sit at the bloody table all night. Come on, dance with—"

"I think my cousin said no, mate," Dudley cut in.

The guy pouted. "Fine then. But I'll be just over there," he said, pointing, "if you change your mine, yeah?"

Harry glanced across the room at the area the guy had indicated—and frowned—then nodded. "Sure. Thank you."

"I'm Dazz, by the way," the guy said, holding out his hand—a bit limply.

Harry looked at it for a second, then took it. The guy's handshake felt just like it looked—a wet noodle—which almost made the green-eyed man laugh. "Harry," he said. "Nice to meet you."

Dazz grinned at Harry flirtatiously, then looked at Dudley. "_Bye_ Harry's cousin," he said before sauntering off.

Dudley snorted when he was gone. "You could have gone with him," he told Harry. "I wouldn't have minded."

"I...ahh...no!"

Dudley chortled. "You're hysterical, Harry! I mean, you _really_ can't see it?"

"See what?"

Dudley took a drink, then gestured across the room with his head—at Dazz, who was now fluttering around the dance floor. "He's not a bad looking bloke."

Harry frowned. "He's fine, but I'm not into dancing. I told you that."

"He's a bit feminine though, if you ask me. Don't you agree?" Dudley continued, his nose scrunching up.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose."

"One might as well be with a girl if one were to go for that," Dudley went on.

"Which is what I've been doing," Harry said. "Dating _girls_!"

Dudley grinned. "And how's _that_ working out for you?"

Harry frowned. "I thought it was going fine...until Ginny broke up with me. Today, in fact," he said. Then he gestured about. "I'm not sure how all _this_ came about, really. I left work today and went home to my _girlfriend_, who promptly dumped me without giving me a reason. And now I'm in a gay club, with my straight cousin, being hit on by bloody nancies."

Dudley burst out laughing! "Okay, so no girly guys," he said.

Harry's brows rose. "_THAT'S_ what you got out of that?!" he burst.

The larger man chuckled, but ignored the outburst. "How about _that_ bloke?" he said, pointing at a tall, dark-skinned man at the center of the dance floor. "He looks fit."

Harry blinked, then slowly turned his head to look—and frowned. "He's...ahh...okay, I guess. Fit, I suppose." Then he squinted and took a second look. "I think I know him!"

Dudley laughed. "I do too, actually. He's one of _your_ kind."

Harry's jaw dropped open—but they couldn't discuss it any further, because Gordon and Evan reappeared. Gordon sat down and took several massive gulps of his drink and Evan daintily picked up his cosmo and sipped. They were both sweaty, but looked happy.

"Budge up," Evan said as he pushed himself next to Gordon and all but draped himself over the other man.

Dudley and Harry both smiled. "Have a good dance?" Dudley asked.

"Abso-_fucking_-lutely!" said Evan—Gordon only shrugged.

"I'm gonna hit the loo," Dudley said, standing up.

Gordon snorted. "Good luck with that," he said—then explained. "Loads of blokes use the stalls for a quickie. Wait for the stall on the far end and...touch _nothing_ you don't have to."

Dudley grimaced. "Order us another round, would you?" he said to Gordon.

Gordon nodded. "Will do," he said, raising his hand to get the attention of one of the servers.

"Dance with me, Harry," Evan said, popping up and moving to sit beside him. "Gordon's not bad, but he won't dance all night. Please?"

Harry frowned. "I told Dudley that I wouldn't be dancing."

"_Please_?"

"Go on, Harry, you cannot _possibly_ be any worse than I am," Gordon encouraged, laughing. "And you can't come to a club without dancing a bit...or so _Evan_ tells me."

Harry continued to look at them with uncertainty. "Really guys, I'm _not_ good."

Evan pouted and shoved his drink into Harry's hand. "Here, drink this...liquid courage."

Harry laughed, but accepted the drink because he figured he wouldn't be able to get out of this. And Evan was safe—he was attached and wouldn't hit on Harry—right? Plus, his Auror senses piqued, Harry was curious as to why another _wizard_ was in this Muggle establishment. He just hoped he could avoid the dark-skinned man's attention—because, _how_ in the world would he explain his own presence here?

But it didn't happen that way. Evan dragged Harry onto the dance floor and was immediately all over Harry. He wasn't making a pass at him or anything, but this sort of dancing was apparently much more touchy-feely than Harry had imagined.

And then there was the other wizard. Within a song, Harry'd been maneuvered into close proximity of the man—and was definitely noticed!

"Fancy meeting _you_ here, Potter," a dark-skinned ex-Slytherin shouted as he turned, leaning in close to be heard.

Harry blushed. "Zabini," he greeted nervously, nodding—then was surprised when Blaise Zabini abandoned the bloke he'd been rubbing himself up against and slid up behind Harry, putting his hands on Harry's hips and pulling them flush.

"Hiya, Evan," Zabini said over Harry's shoulder, grinning. "Gordon quit for the night _already_?"

Evan laughed. "You know Gordy," he shouted from in front of Harry. "How are you, Blaise?"

Blaise shrugged. "Same ole, same ole."

Evan laughed—and the conversation continued...

And Harry listened, but also tried to concentrate on his shite dancing—which was actually helped by Zabini's physical guidance. He almost felt like he wasn't even there, however. In fact, if he hadn't felt the body pressed to his back, he might think he was just listening to a side conversation and wasn't involved at all.

And then Evan disappeared, leaving Harry alone with Blaise Zabini of Slytherin House!

"So, Potter, what _are_ you doing here and...how the _fuck_ do you know Evan and Gordon?" Blaise Zabini asked.

Harry frowned. "They're friends with my cousin, Dudley," he responded loudly, still trying to focus on his dancing.

"For fuck's sake, Potter, stop looking down at your feet," Blaise instructed—then ground himself into Harry's arse, smirked, and said, "Just..._feel_ the music."

Harry tried—he really did—but this was just too...surreal. He was _DANCING_ with Blaise Zabini!

And then Zabini spun him around, pulling Harry's arms to his shoulders, then wrapping his own around Harry's waist, and slipping a thigh between Harry's legs.

"Relax, Potter," the darker man said. "Pretend you're...on a broom." He snickered and pushed his pelvis into Harry's—who immediately frowned at the obvious innuendo.

"Fuck off, Zabini!"

Blaise snorted. "We could do that."

Harry just rolled his eyes.

Laughing, Blaise changed the subject. "So. Patty Cake's Big D is related to the Chosen One?! Now _why_—"

"Don't call me that, Zabini!" Harry snapped, interrupting.

Blaise ignored the outburst—mostly—and continued. "Now, now, Potter, calm down. I'm just wondering... How is it that none of my mates know this?"

Harry shrugged. "You'd have to ask _them_," he said. "Wait. Who the fuck is Patty Cake?"

Blaise chortled. "Funny story, actually, but I won't bore you with _all_ the details. Patty Cake would be our dear sweet friend Pansy Parkinson. Pansy _Dursley_ now," he amended, grinning.

Harry gaped. "Dudley's married to Parkinson?!"

"Dursley," Blaise corrected. "And I'm afraid so. But what I _really_ don't understand is how this little fact has escaped the notice of _all_ of us. You would think _someone_ would have put two and two together by now. Well, maybe not _you_," the darker man teased with a smirk, insinuating that Harry was daft.

Harry glared, but he was floored—and speechless.

"Dudley, at least," Blaise went on, rolling his eyes, "since plenty of us have mentioned you...from time to time. Though, to be fair, none of us actually ever used your _given_ name. Plenty of Potters out there."

"Hmm."

"Anyway, didn't know you were bent, Potter," Blaise said, changing the subject again.

Harry blinked. "I'm...ahh..._not_!" Harry denied—but only somewhat vehemently—then frowned. "Didn't _think_ I was anyway."

Blaise tossed his head back and laughed.

"So, where's your cohort?" Harry asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Blaise yelled.

"Malfoy. Where is he?" Harry asked. "You two twats were never far apart."

"You always did keep an eye on Draco, didn't you?" Blaise said with a smirk.

Harry frowned. "Did not."

Blaise snorted. "You are _just_ like Draco, you know that, Potter? _Always_ in denial."

Harry wanted to shake his head, but resisted. Instead, he ground his teeth.

"Speak of the devil!" Blaise shouted, spinning Harry around and into the arms of Draco Malfoy—who blinked in surprise.

"_Potter_?!" the blond burst with surprise as Harry slammed into his chest. "What the _fuck_, Blaise?!"

Blaise grinned, then leaned over Harry's shoulder and gave Draco a jovial peck on the lips. "Happy Birthday, Draco," he said—then kissed Harry's left cheek and pushed away from the pair, disappearing into the crowd.

Both men seemed to be completely stunned by whom they were now holding—_extremely_ closely, mind—so stunned, in fact, that neither of them were moving much.

And then the music changed, becoming slower.

"One of the rare slow ones here," the blond said as he started to move with the music. Then he smirked. "Care to continue, Potter? I promise not the bite."

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry stay on the dance floor with Draco Malfoy, someone he'd once considered the enemy? **_(go to chapter 18)

_OR_

_**Should Harry discontinue IMMEDIATELY, and go back to the table? **_(go to chapter 19)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

(repeated from chapter one)

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of MOST chapters, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have NOTHING else written, but will still be writing...if there is interest. *crosses fingers that _someone_ is reading*

5. I will _TRY_ to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (chapter 5 had a "The End").

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. Four chapters = eight choices...eight chapters = sixteen choices...and so on. And so, some "branches" MUST be ended...or rerouted (I have one "The End" and now one reroute). Complicated? Yeah!

7. It will be...IDK...two weeks...before I upload more. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused.

**^^ Instructions** – will repeat (and be expanded) at the end of this chapter!

_**YOU decided that the guy now sitting next to Harry should be someone the green-eyed man knows?**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen <strong>(from chapter 7)

"Now, I _know_ this one's not your boyfriend," the dark-skinned young man said to Dudley, now ignoring Harry.

Dudley laughed. "_Obviously_," he said. "He's my cousin, actually."

The bloke's eyes widened. "Oh _really_ now...and why am I _just_ learning this juicy tidbit of information?"

Dudley shrugged and slid into the seat across from Harry—and grinned when the other man, who was clearly _not_ a stranger, grinned at him. "None of your bloody business, tosser!"

The _stranger_ sniggered, then gave Dudley a two-fingered salute. "The old ball and chain aware of this?" he asked, waving a hand between the cousins.

Dudley's eyes narrowed. "Don't call her that!" Dudley snapped, causing the wizard's light brown eyes to twinkle. "And, since I've never actually come out and said it, I would venture to guess that she does not."

The darker man let out a completely undignified snort. "Well, _I'd_ imagine you're going to be in it _deep_ when your sweet little flower finds out," he said.

Dudley scoffed. "No worries," he said, looking bored.

The other man laughed again, then turned to Harry and repeated his earlier question. "Never seen you _here_ before..._Potter_."

Harry blinked at the guy—who was _not_ a stranger to him either—then narrowed his eyes and glared a bit. "Zabini," he acknowledged, inching slightly away from the man who was once in Slytherin House. "Never seen you _anywhere_ before...other than Hogwarts."

Blaise snorted again. "Nice to see you too, oh mighty _Chosen One_," he said, bowing his head mockingly.

"Don't _fucking_ call me that!" Harry snapped. "The war's over and I don't want to be reminded of it."

"Touchy," Blaise said.

Dudley looked from one man to the other, not really nervously...though he was _intensely_ curious about their obvious animosity.

"Fine then!" said Blaise, giving an almost imperceptible nod. "Let's drop the House rivalry shite then, shall we? It's _ever_ so boring...even more so now than it was back in the day."

Harry sighed, then nodded. "True that. I suppose I'm amenable...if _you_ are?" he challenged.

Blaise grinned, also nodding. "Excellent!"

Dudley let out his breath—not even aware that he'd been holding it. "Brilliant! So, you two shiteheads attended that wacky wizarding school together then, yeah?"

Blaise and Harry exchanged a look—both a little worried about the Statute of Secrecy—then nodded.

"Zabini here was a dirty snake," Harry said nastily.

"Hey! Snakes are very clean creatures, I'll have you know," Blaise objected, preening just a little. "Sleek and _beautiful_."

Harry snorted. "As snuggly as a Snarfalump, I'm sure."

Blaise smirked. "Is that the problem, Potter? You're a cuddler and couldn't abide by the smooth scales of a Slytherin?"

Harry scoffed. "No. I just—"

Dudley burst out laughing, interrupting his cousin. "You two are something else," he said. "Where's Draco, Blaise?"

Blaise tossed another glare in Harry's direction, then looked at the beefy blond. "He was going to attempt to use that place this establishment tries to pass off as a loo, but I suspect he's back on the dance floor hitting up some hottie. If he got out of there alive, that is," he said—then nodded. "There he is...with Dazz. Not sure what he sees in that one."

"He sees an underage twink, is what he sees," Gordon said as he sat down and took several massive gulps of his drink. Evan, on the other hand, daintily picked up his cosmo and sipped. They were both sweaty, but looked happy.

"Budge up," Evan said as he pushed himself in next to Gordon and all but draped himself over the other man. "Hiya, Blaise."

Blaise nodded. "Evan. Gordon," he greeted, smiling politely.

Dudley and Harry both smiled as well. "Have a good dance?" Dudley asked.

"Absolutely!" said Evan—Gordon only shrugged.

"I'm gonna hit the loo," Dudley said, standing up.

Gordon snorted. "Good luck with that," he said—then explained. "Loads of blokes use the stalls for a quickie. Wait for the stall on the far end and...touch _nothing_ you don't have to."

"That's right...you've never been here before," Blaise said. "Definitely heed _that_ warning; the toilets are nasty."

Dudley grimaced. "Order us another round, would you?" he said to Gordon.

Gordon nodded. "Will do, Big D," he said, raising his hand to get the attention of one of the servers.

"Dance with me, Harry," Evan said, popping up and moving to sit beside him. "Gordon's not bad, but he won't dance all night. Please?"

Harry frowned. "I told Dudley that I wouldn't be dancing."

"_Please_?"

Harry held up his hands and shook his head. "Absolutely not, buddy...I'm here to observe, not participate."

Evan huffed. "Fine then," he said, pouting—then turned pleading eyes on Blaise Zabini. "How about you?"

Blaise laughed, but looked at Gordon. "All right?"

Gordon shrugged. "Be my guest. I need to sit a few out and this one likes to paint the town."

Grinning, Blaise got up and offered a hand to Evan. "Come on then," he said.

Evan leaned over and kissed Gordon, then grabbed Blaise's hand and glided off into the pulsing lights and grinding bodies.

Watching his boyfriend, Gordon just laughed.

Harry watched too. "That doesn't bother you?"

Gordon shook his head. "_Hell_ no! If someone didn't take him off my hands for half the night, I'd be nearly crippled tomorrow."

Harry nodded, his eyes going back to Blaise and Evan—who'd been joined by Draco and the other guy they'd mentioned.

"Another round," Gordon said when the server finally managed to get to the table, then raised his glass to his mouth to finish off what was in there.

"What's a twink?" Harry asked after a moment.

Gordon coughed, some of his drink dribbling from his lips. "Where you been, Harry, under a rock?"

Harry shrugged. "Something like that."

Dudley's friend laughed. "It refers to the way he looks...mostly. Young...or youthful-looking. Thin build, many times hairless...effeminate. Like Evan." He winked.

Harry's eyes went to the dance floor again. "Why not date a girl then?" he asked, looking at his cousin's friend.

Grinning, Gordon said, "I like cock, Harry...and women, they don't have 'em."

Harry blushed. "Right," he said, his eye going back to those moving on the dance floor. "So then...Zabini...not one. A twink."

Gordon laughed again. "No. That one's _all_ man."

Harry looked back. "Like you," he observed. It was not a question.

"Right. You're catching on, Harry," said Gordon.

"And...Malfoy?"

Gordon looked at the dancers. Evan was now dancing with the blond they were discussing. "Draco's hard to nail down," he said with a frown. "Sometimes he is...other times, not so much."

Harry frowned too. "Interesting."

"What's interesting?" Dudley asked, returning to his seat and plopping down.

"Harry's schooling up a bit," Gordon answered, then looked at Harry. "So, which is it, Harry? You gay or not?"

Harry just frowned. Up until tonight, he'd never thought about it. He'd always _assumed_ he was straight, but he was mighty interested in all of this. Much too interested for a straight guy. He sighed and looked at his cousin. "I...ahh...I don't know."

Dudley smiled. "Harry, I'm not going to think anything either way," he said. "But you have to be honest with yourself. You're never going to be happy otherwise."

Harry sighed. "Maybe I'm...both."

Gordon and Dudley laughed.

"Well, I suppose that's an option too," Gordon said. "Though, some people think that _bisexual_ men are just gays who aren't willing to admit it yet. You know, still half in the closet."

"I don't want to live in a closet," Harry said. "But...I don't know. Really."

Dudley shrugged. "You don't have to come out, Harry. Just...take your time."

"Yeah. Just...take it all in and see what happens," Gordon added. "If you _are_ gay...and I think you are...there's no way you'll be able to stay in your closet. Look at me. I tormented Evan something fierce when we were growing up...turns out I just wanted to bugger him."

Dudley cackled a laugh. "So, who'd you torment as a teen, Harry?"

Harry blushed, his eyes going to the dance floor—both Dudley and Gordon's eyes followed.

"Blaise or Draco?" Gordon asked.

"Malfoy...er...I mean, he tormented me, actually," Harry amended. "What's that mean, you think?"

"What do _you_ think it means, Harry?" Dudley asked.

Harry was panicking. All he _wanted_ to do was run out of this place—and away from all these confusing thoughts. But could he run fast enough? He didn't know.

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry jump up and flee, like his heart and nerves are telling him to? **_(go to chapter 22)

_OR_

_**Should Harry buck up some Gryffindor courage and force himself to stay, at least for a while, and try to figure this whole thing out? **_(go to chapter 23)

* * *

><p><strong>NotesWARNINGS!**

(repeated from chapter one)

1. Do NOT attempt to read this chapter by chapter...that will NOT work!

2. This is my version of a _Choose Your Own Adventure_ book—and, as the title suggests, you are partially in control of the story.

3. At the end of MOST chapters, you will have to CHOOSE which way to go and go to that chapter only.

4. New chapters will be put up periodically...I currently have NOTHING else written, but will still be writing...if there is interest. *crosses fingers that _someone_ is reading*

5. I will _TRY_ to always complete all end-of-chapter choices before updating. This will be tricky, because, with each chapter, comes _more_ choices...which makes for a lot more writing for me with each update...unless I end a branch, which I've already done once (chapter 5 had a "The End").

6. You can think of this like a tree, with MANY branches...with chapter one, there are only two choices...but once chapters two and three are posted, there'll be two more choices for each—which means four more chapters. Four chapters = eight choices...eight chapters = sixteen choices...and so on. And so, some "branches" MUST be ended...or rerouted (I have one "The End" and now one reroute). Complicated? Yeah!

7. It will be...IDK...two weeks...before I upload more. Please be patient.

**Questions/comments? Message me or review. Thanks for giving this a go!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused (see first chapter (or any chapter before prior to 14 for full instructions)).

To **Amu4ever**...sorry...I don't seem capable of leaving out at least a tiny warning. Lol. Thanks for continuing to read!

_**YOU decided that Harry should **_**choose**_** to contact Draco Malfoy sometime in the near future (like as soon as possible).**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen<strong> (from chapter 8)

After Malfoy left, Harry paced—and he paced and paced and paced. But he couldn't seem to wrap his mind around what had just happened. He'd been kissed by a bloke! And not just _any_ bloke. No. He'd been snogged silly by Draco _fucking_ Malfoy!

And his best friend had seen it happen.

"Oh Merlin!" Harry bellowed into his empty house. "What have I done?!"

And then he headed for the stairs, to go up to his bedroom. He was _not_ going to think about this...about Malfoy...and the blond man's firm, persistent lips. About...the _other_ firm thing...in Malfoy's trousers.

And his _own_ arousal.

Harry stopped as he came into his room. _Maybe I can Oblivate myself_, he thought—then shook his head. Obviously that wouldn't work.

And then he was stripping his clothing off—leaving them where they fell—and going to the bathroom for a shower, in hopes that he could wash himself clean of the blond man.

In the shower though, it was only minutes until Harry's mind went back to Malfoy's kisses and touches. It started with Harry stepping under the hot spray and soaking his head, then pouring shampoo into his hand. But when he started scrubbing his scalp, he could almost _feel_ Malfoy's fingernails digging into his scalp. Harry groaned. Then, catching himself, he scrubbed—almost painfully—then vigorously rinsed.

_Ginny_, he thought, trying to focus.

His body was next. He didn't fare any better there, however. As soon as he'd lathered up, his hands went to his groin area, where he stroked himself—a few times—not realizing he'd made himself hard until it was too late and he was stroking in earnest. This would have been perfectly fine—if Ginny's long red locks didn't suddenly morph into platinum blond as Harry tugged at himself.

"Fuck. Malfoy!" he shouted as he came hard, nearly collapsing in the shower.

After a moment, Harry opened his eyes and stared down at his waning erection. Frowning, because he knew he _needed_ to see the blond again, he cursed. "_Fuck_!"

And so, after spending another ten minutes under the scorching hot spray, Harry dressed again and headed for his Floo.

"Draco's flat!" he called out firmly, hoping he'd end up where he intended to go—even though he was scared shitless and _seriously_ questioning his sanity.

**~oOo~**

On the other side, Harry stumbled out into an extremely large main living space. Before him were far too many places to sit for one person, making Harry wonder if Malfoy had lied about not living at the Manor.

On the right side of the room, beneath two large two-story windows, were two oversized taupe-colored settees separated by a small glass table. In front of them sat three round wicker-like tables, the closest two empty, but the farthest one decorated with an array of glass bottles of varying shades of brown. On the left of the room, a _long_ beige sofa with cream pillows sat facing the tall windows. Beneath the furniture lay a lovely shag-style area rug of multiple earth tones.

The walls, which appeared to be white—for the most part—had nothing on them. No pictures or artwork of any kind. The ceilings—also white—had recessed lighting where it was low and two massive chandeliers inside spherical casings hanging over the living space—third over what appeared to be a dining table on the other end of the room.

But that wasn't all. To the left of the space Harry was standing in were two closed dark doors—possibly black—which promised even more. Just beyond that, a second living space—this one with slightly darker furniture, but a much lighter area rug, a black built-in against the far wall, _and_ a Muggle telly. And further still, just beyond the dining area, there was a _third_ space. Harry couldn't really see what was in there; maybe another dark built-in and light-ish furniture.

"_Malfoy_," Harry called out after a moment of gazing around. He got no immediate response and so took a couple steps in, his eyes going from the dark wood flooring he was walking on up the pristine white wall on his left. Above him was an empty opening to yet _another_ room.

"This place is _huge_," Harry grumbled under his breath.

And then a familiar snarky face appeared.

"_Potter_?" the blond said from above. "What are you _doing_ here?"

Harry shrugged. "I...dunno," he said, shaking his head. "I was in the shower and...couldn't stop thinking of you."

Draco smirked. "And so you just decided to pop over?"

"Something like that." Harry frowned. "Probably a mistake."

_CRACK_!

And suddenly Draco was standing right in front of him; and, wearing only a pair of casual lounge pants, he was practically naked.

Harry gulped. "_Definitely_ a mistake," he mumbled, trying very hard to keep his eyes off Malfoy's well-sculpted chest and stomach.

Draco chuckled. "Relax, Potter," he said as he walked up and took the sleeve of Harry's shirt, tugging slightly—encouragingly. "It's not like I'm going to accost you. Come in and sit. I'll fix us a drink. _Then_ I'll make my move."

Harry's green orbs went wide. "W-what?" he stammered.

The blond rolled his eyes and tugged again. "Loosen up, Potter. Hasn't anyone ever teased you before?"

"Um. Yeah, but...never _you_."

Draco sighed. "You're here for a reason, right?"

Shrugging, Harry said, "I suppose."

"Then sit with me," said Draco, his gray eyes shining silver as he pulled on Harry's sleeve again. "I promise I won't bite." The blond thought about adding '_yet'_ to the sentence, but refrained; it was obvious the dark-haired man was close to bolting and he didn't want that. Not at all!

Harry resisted for a second, then nodded and allowed himself to be pulled further into Malfoy's house.

"Nice place you've got here," he said after being gently pushed onto a charcoal gray sectional. "Still, can't imagine you living alone."

Draco scowled. "I'm quite enjoying it, actually," he said. "Though, I must say, Mother and Father aren't particularly pleased with my choice." He scoffed—then shuddered a bit. "They're _trying_ to push an arranged marriage on me," he went on, moving to what was clearly a bar and pulling out a bottle of Muggle whisky. He didn't ask Harry what he wanted, just mixed them each the same drink.

"Merlin!" Harry burst. "That's..._barbaric_!"

"I know, right?! That's _exactly_ what I said when Father informed me that I'm to marry the younger Greengrass brat. This isn't the nineteenth century, you know? Mother said it's a good match, but...I disagree. I mean, Astoria's _attractive_ and all, but she's sort of missing a certain piece of anatomy that I _absolutely_ require," he said, turning around and bringing Harry his drink.

Harry blushed. "I...ahh...didn't come here to talk about...parts of anatomy," he said.

Draco smirked. "Then tell me, what _did_ you come here for, Potter?"

To stall, the dark-haired man quickly brought the drink to his mouth and sipped it. "Oh. That's nice. What am I drinking?"

Hiding a smile, Draco answered. "Whisky sour. I love them," he said, taking a sip and swallowing, then taking a larger one and putting his glass down—so that he could focus on the man next to him.

Harry watched the blond, then sipped his own drink a few times, but did _not_ put it down, because...well, what would he do with his hands if not hold the glass.

"So. _Married_. That's scary if you're not interested in that sort of thing," Harry said.

Draco shrugged. "I'm not _not_ interested in marriage, Potter...just not in one that involves a woman," he said as he slowly reached out and touched Harry's leg, tapping his fingers just above the other man's knee. "Not that I have anything against women, mind. I mean, I have female friends, but...the thought of pussy..." He pulled a face and shuddered dramatically.

Harry snorted a laugh. "I'd had no idea you were gay, Malfoy. In fact, I thought you and Parkinson had a thing."

Now Draco snorted. "A _thing_, Potter? How...juvenile."

"You know what I mean."

The blond huffed. "Well, if you must know, I _did_ date Pansy...for a short time in fourth year. We lost our virginity together, of course, but we both quickly realized that _that_ would never work."

"Because you're gay?" asked the dark-haired man.

Draco shrugged. "There's that, yes...and the fact that she's sort of like a sister to me. And she feels the same way about me."

Harry frowned, because...that was sort of how he saw Ginny—and he'd wanted to marry her?

"Anyway, Pansy's happily married now...to a Muggle," the blond added with a snort. "And Theo too. Married, I mean. To Mandy Brocklehurst. Ravenclaw. Do you remember her?"

"Vaguely."

"Greg too," Draco continued. "To a Hufflepuff a few years behind us, Annabel Entwhistle. Her brother, Kevin, was in our year...also a Ravenclaw."

Harry nodded. "I remember him...also vaguely."

"Pfft! Didn't pay much attention to those out of your circle, did you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I was a bit busy when we were in school, Malfoy...if you remember correctly?"

The blond ignored the semi-question and moved on. "And then there's Millicent. She's married too. Well, _bonded_ actually, which, as you know, is _much_ stronger than marriage...and permanent."

Harry blinked. "I know nothing about bonding. And...wow, who married _her_?"

The blond glared. "I'll have you know that Millie's a wonderful person and that she's been horribly misunderstood."

Harry scoffed. "Tell Hermione that. I believe she'll remember Bulstrode quite a bit differently.

"And I remember Granger having a violent streak herself; punched me in the face, she did," Draco groused.

Harry grinned. "Now _that_ was brilliant!"

Draco eyes narrowed. "_Fuck_ you, Potter! It hurt like hell and was...humiliating."

Harry rolled his eyes. "As did the broken nose you gave me when you stomped on my face," the green eyed man countered.

"Point taken," Draco said—then waved a hand dismissively. "Let's...forget about all that stuff, could we?"

Shrugging, Harry pushed on. "So, tell me, who managed to capture good old Millicent's heart."

The blond grinned. "You'll never guess, so I'll just tell you," he said. "It was Lavender Brown."

For a moment, Harry just stared. Then... "Wow!" Then he frowned. "I actually thought Lavender didn't make it, after the war, I mean."

"It's a long story, which maybe I'll tell you another time," Draco said. "Or perhaps Millie and Lav can do the honors at some point."

Harry frowned. He wasn't really thinking about anything in the future at the moment.

"So, tell me about the other two parts of your Golden Trio. Obviously, you three are all still _best mates_."

Harry frowned. "Why do you say it like that? Like the thought is repulsive or something."

Draco shrugged. "It sort of is. I mean like...don't you ever get _tired_ of them?"

"Not really," Harry said. "Things are different now, because they live together and I don't see them as much, because we're all busy with work and stuff, but—"

"Hmm. Interesting," Draco interrupted. "I like my friends and all, but...I get tired of them if they're around too much. Blaise, for instance, can be a right prat. I often avoid him."

Harry frowned. "I'm not like that, Malfoy. If someone's my friend, then...I'd _always_ be there."

"I see. So, are _we_ going to be friends?"

Harry swallowed. "I...ahh...don't really know. Do you _want_ to be friends? I mean, could you _handle_ being my friend?" he said challengingly.

Draco laughed. "I think I could manage. Though, to be completely honest, I _might_ be interested in a bit more than just friendship," he said, fluttering his fingers up Harry's leg to his thigh. "What do you think of _that_, Potter?"

His eyes on the hand now firmly moving up his thigh, Harry swallowed hard again. It was quite difficult to think at the moment. Did he want to find out what it would be like to be friends with Malfoy or was he interested in exploring more than just friendship with the other man?

* * *

><p><strong>Time to Choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry tell Draco Malfoy that he's really only interested in being friends (for now)?**_ (go to chapter 24)

_OR_

_**Should Harry admit to himself (and possibly to the blond) that he's more than a little interested in **_**at least**_** exploring this thing beyond friendship?**_ (go to chapter 25)

* * *

><p>Okay, I have a <strong>request<strong>, because I'm interested in the path everyone is taking. Would everyone be so kind as to either "review" their path numbers (for example:**1 – 3 – 7 – 13 – 23 – 18 – 28**)..._OR_...send it to me via PM. I'm just curious.

Further, I'm not sure if everyone is sticking to the DO NOT READ STRAIGHT THROUGH thing... *glares angrily at those who aren't following the instructions* ...and so I feel like I need to apologize for chapters that repeat themselves. Some of the chapters are quite similar. In fact, they're nearly _exactly_ the same. Or parts of them are, because, while you are able to take Harry in different directions, this really is just one story line. If that makes sense...hmm...IDK.

Anyway, thanks for continuing to read!


	15. Chapter 15

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused (see first chapter (or any chapter before prior to 14 for full instructions)).

To **Amu4ever**...sorry...I don't seem capable of leaving out at least a tiny warning. Lol. Thanks for continuing to read!

_**YOU decided that Harry should give it some time, perhaps talk to his friends, before contacting the other man (or not contacting him).**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen <strong>(from chapter 8)

After Malfoy left, Harry paced—and he paced and paced and paced. But he couldn't seem to wrap his mind around what had just happened. He'd been kissed by a bloke! And not just _any_ bloke. No. He'd been snogged silly by Draco _fucking_ Malfoy!

And his best friend had seen it happen.

"Oh Merlin!" Harry bellowed into his empty house. "What the bloody hell have I _done_?!"

And then he headed for the stairs, to go up to his bedroom. He was _not_ going to think about this...about Malfoy...and the blond man's firm, persistent lips—about the _other_ firm thing...in Malfoy's trousers.

And his _own_ arousal.

"Shut _up_!" he told himself as he came into his room and stopped. _Maybe I can Oblivate myself_, he thought—then shook his head. Obviously that wouldn't work. "Maybe Ron could do it," he said aloud. "Or...Hermione."

Frowning, Harry pulled out his wand and, without thinking about it, sent his Patronus to his two best friends. He knew Ginny was there, so he couldn't just Floo or Apparate over there, but he could ask one or both of _them_ to come to him. This was dire, after all.

_Right_?

Within moments his wards told him that someone had entered through the drawing room Floo—and so he turned and went back downstairs.

**~oOo~**

"Hiya," he said as he entered the room. He felt nervous about facing them...and embarrassed too.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione said as she rushed to him and took him into her arms. "How are you?"

Harry shrugged, his eyes going to Ron over Hermione's shoulder. It was obvious that his friend had filled Hermione in.

Staying back, Ron waited for the embrace to end, then he shifted on his feet. "So," he said, "what's the verdict? Ginny right?"

Harry sighed, then dropped into his favorite chair. "I think...I think I'm gay," he admitted.

Both Ron and Hermione sat down across from him.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Harry?" Hermione said encouragingly. "I mean, we love you just the same."

Harry's eyes went to Ron, who shrugged and said, "Of _course_ we do, mate. Nothing could change that."

Harry let out a breath—which he hadn't known he'd been holding—and smiled. "I guess I was terrified of losing you two."

Hermione shook her head. "That would never happen, Harry. After every thing we've been through...we're family. No matter what happens or who you're with."

"Thank you."

"Malfoy though?" Ron queried. "I mean, _come on_, mate. He's a total twat!"

Laughing, Harry leaned forward and ran his hands over his face and stubbly jaw. "I know, I know. It just...sort of happened."

"Tell us, Harry," Hermione persisted, as she too sat forward, interested.

Harry shrugged. "After Gin left...I went to Bellamy's. I like that bar...it's quiet and no one bugs me. Well, tonight Malfoy was there and...he sort of convinced me to...you know...talk and stuff."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, I saw the _and stuff_! Wasn't pretty, I tell ya."

Harry laughed. "In all fairness, you asked for it to happen in front of you."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'll give you that. But still..._Malfoy_?" He scrunched up his face. "Ew."

"He _is_ rather attractive, Harry," admitted Hermione.

The redhead scowled. "Pfft! Yeah, if you like cold, pasty, pointy, and skinny."

Hermione smacked her boyfriend. "Malfoy's not _that_ skinny. No thinner than Harry. Both are built quite nicely, if you ask me."

Ron snorted. "Well, I didn't really ask you, did I?"

The woman's eyes rolled, then turned toward Harry. "If you think you'd be happy with Malfoy, Harry, then you have my support."

Harry's eyes widened. "Well, first...thank you. I definitely appreciate it. But...let's slow down. I mean, Ginny's only _just_ left me. _Tonight_. Let's hold off on me being happy...with Malfoy or anyone else."

Both Hermione and Ron nodded—and Ron looked extremely relieved.

"How's Gin?" Harry asked next.

Hermione and Ron glanced at one another, then looked back at Harry.

"She's been...tearful," Hermione confessed. "She said she'd come to this conclusion a while back, but only just had the courage to acknowledge it and make the move. She's very upset, but she couldn't let it go any longer...for both herself and for you."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "I truly had no idea," he said, his eyes going to Ron. "I...I'm so sorry, mate."

Ron shrugged. "I loved the idea of you marrying Gin and officially being part of the family, but...I want you to be happy, Harry. Plus, it would be wrong and unfair to both you and Gin if you two got married...under the circumstances. Better to realize this now. Ginny's strong; she'll survive."

Harry smiled, relieved. "I know," he said—but it felt good hearing it.

"She's decided to go on over to the Burrow," Ron continued. "After we got your Patronus, she said that you needed us."

"So don't be afraid to pop in any time, Harry," Hermione added. "Though, even with Ginny there, you would have been welcome. She may be Ron's sister, but _you're_ our best friend..._just_ as important to us."

Ron nodded. "Absolutely. Plus, she has plenty of family to go to."

Harry smiled. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, mate," said Ron. "So...about Malfoy. _Really_?"

"Merlin, I don't know!" Harry burst, flinging himself back on his chair. "Maybe you should just...Obliviate me!"

Ron grinned. "I can _definitely_ do that."

"Ronald, you will absolutely _not_ do that," Hermione said in a scolding tone. "Did you learn _nothing_ from what I did to my parents?"

Ron blushed. It had taken six months to track down Hermione's parents and even longer to right what she'd done to them—and another year for them to forgive her. "I wasn't being serious, Hermione. Just saying it would be nice. I mean, _I'd_ certainly like the image of Malfoy snogging my best friend Obliviated out of my bloody head." He looked at Harry and wrinkled his nose. "You...ahh...liked it then? Obviously."

Harry's face reddened. "It was...not so different from kissing a girl. Maybe more..._forceful_? I don't know how to describe it."

"Really. It's fine. You don't have to describe _anything_!" said Ron.

Harry laughed. "I just...don't really know where to go from here. Should I...pursue this? Him, I mean. Or just wait?"

"You have to do what makes you comfortable, Harry," Hermione said logically. "You shouldn't rush anything. Like you said, this has only just come about tonight. I think I would step back and take a breather. Think on it. Get your thoughts in order. But...that's just me."

Ron grinned. "Or you could just jump on in...like you're used to doing," he suggested. "I'm not saying you should jump on that git, mind, but...yeah."

"We love you, Harry," Hermione continued, "regardless of whom you date."

"Even if it _is_ the Ferret," Ron muttered, smirking.

Harry sighed, glad that, at the very least, his best friends wouldn't hate him no matter which way he went with this. It was actually much more than he could ask for, given the circumstances and the pasts all of them shared. Part of him wanted to jump through the Floo and go see the blond immediately—to see where this might go. But a larger part of him needed some time to think about it all—like Hermione suggested. Waiting wasn't his usual M.O., but Harry _was_ smart enough to know that, when something was _this_ big—_huge_, actually—waiting was probably the better choice.

He would wait and see what happened. After all, he had plenty of time—a whole _life_ ahead of him—to figure this shite out.

**The End.**

* * *

><p>Okay, I have a <strong>request<strong>, because I'm interested in the path everyone is taking. Would everyone be so kind as to either "review" their path numbers (for example:**1 – 3 – 7 – 13 – 23 – 18 – 28**)..._OR_...send it to me via PM. I'm just curious.

Further, I'm not sure if everyone is sticking to the DO NOT READ STRAIGHT THROUGH thing... *glares angrily at those who aren't following the instructions* ...and so I feel like I need to apologize for chapters that repeat themselves. Some of the chapters are quite similar. In fact, they're nearly _exactly_ the same. Or parts of them are, because, while you are able to take Harry in different directions, this really is just one story line. If that makes sense...hmm...IDK.

Anyway, thanks for continuing to read!


	16. Chapter 16

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused (see first chapter (or any chapter before prior to 14 for full instructions)).

To **Amu4ever**...sorry...I don't seem capable of leaving out at least a tiny warning. Lol. Thanks for continuing to read!

_**YOU decided that Harry should tell his friends about his new self-discovery.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen <strong>(from chapter 9)

It wasn't too late when Harry arrived back home, but when he Floo'd into his drawing room, it wasn't empty.

"I'm telling you, Hermione," Ron Weasley was saying. "I was here an hour-ish ago...and _three_ hours ago...and he wasn't _here_!"

_WHOOSH_!

"Well, looks like he is _now_, Ronald," Hermione Granger said as she stood, smiling at Harry."

Harry smiled at his friends, noticing that Ginny was there too. "Ahh...hi guys," he said, giving them a wave, then tugging at his rumpled shirt.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione said, going to him and hugging him. "Sorry to just barge in like this, but...well, Ron stopped by earlier—"

"More than once," Ginny added, sending a clearly irritated glare at her brother.

"_More than once_," Hermione repeated, "and...well, since you weren't here, we got a little worried."

Harry nodded; he understood his friends' worry, because his not being home _wasn't_ usual for him. "I'm fine," he said—blushing slightly and hoping the lighting in the room was just dim enough that they wouldn't catch it. "I...ahh...went out for a drink and...I guess I lost track of the time."

Ron appeared to believe him, but Ginny glanced down at her watch and frowned—she looked upset. Hermione had a similar expression, though it was more curiosity.

"All right, Harry," she said. "We just had to check on you, but now that we know you're home safely..." She let her words trail off.

Harry nodded. "Thank you," he said. He _did_ appreciate that they cared for him. "You know you're always welcome to come over," he said, his eyes straying to Ginny. "All of you are. Any time of day. _Always_."

Hermione grinned. "Thank you, Harry," she said—then grabbed Ron's shirt sleeve and tugged a little. "Anyway, I know it's late, so we won't stay."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not really tired. You're...ahh...all welcome to stay...for a drink or something...if you want." Given the circumstances, he didn't really want Ginny to stay, but he didn't see how he could invite Ron and Hermione without including Ginny, so...yeah.

The three exchanged looks. It was clear that Hermione _wanted_ to stay...as much as Ginny appeared ready to bolt. Not out of fear, mind you...no self-respecting Gryffindor would be afraid of visiting with an ex-boyfriend—even if said ex was only _just_ an ex as of that day. Ron, on the other hand, looked as if he'd happily sit back down and stay all night chatting no matter what the other two decided. He was confused too. He'd heard all that his sister had had to say on why she'd broken up with Harry and..._he_ thought it was complete nonsense.

"So...what'll it be, guys? Firewhiskys all around?" Harry asked, grinning.

Standing, Ginny shook her head. "Not me, thanks. It's late, so I think I'm going to go—" She was going to say '_home_,' then realized she didn't currently _have_ one of those. Frowning, she looked down at her hands. Unconsciously, she was wringing them.

Everyone looked uncomfortable. No one knew what they should do...what was the _right_ thing to do.

Then Ginny looked up again and, squaring her shoulders, said, "I think I'll head over to mum and dad's, yeah? So you guys can talk."

Ron immediately relaxed and Hermione went to her friend.

"Are you sure, Ginny?" she asked. "I mean, you can still stay at our place. We'll be home later."

Ginny shook her head. "No. Harry needs you guys and...I have other places I can go."

Looking at Harry, she smiled—grimly—then went to him. Wrapping her arms around him, she squeezed tightly—feeling like it was the last time—then kissed his cheek and went to the fireplace.

"The Burrow!" she said resolutely.

"Okay then! Tell me _that_ wasn't awkward," said Ron.

Hermione and Harry laughed. "Just a bit," she said.

**~oOo~**

"How about that drink?" Ron continued. "I mean, I think I'm definitely going to need one after all of this." He gestured about.

Harry nodded and went to his liquor cabinet—which he always kept stocked, even though he didn't drink all that much. He poured himself and Ron each a firewhisky and Hermione a glass of red wine, then brought them their drinks and sat down. Everyone took a sip and tried to relax.

"So. Everything okay, Harry?" Hermione finally asked.

Harry shrugged. "I guess," he answered. "I mean...Gin's right about me. I'm gay."

His friends frowned at him—causing Harry to misinterpret their feelings.

"Or maybe only bi," he added, worriedly.

Wondering why Harry'd amended his sexual status so quickly, Hermione glanced at Ron, then back at Harry. She thought she understood. "Harry, we don't have an issue with you being straight, gay, or otherwise," she said, looking again at her boyfriend, hoping that she could speak for him.

Ron nodded, then frowned. "I mean...no...no problems here."

Hermione sighed with relief—as did Harry.

"Good," Harry said. "This is...a lot to take in for me and...I don't think I could stand it if the two of you hated me."

Hermione shook her head vehemently. "Oh, Harry, that could _never_ happen," she burst. She was on her feet now and moving to sit with her best friend. Perching herself on the edge of Harry's chair, Hermione threw her arms around her friend. "Don't worry. We're both here for you."

"Thank you, Hermione," he said, his gaze going to Ron.

Ron was frowning. "Are you _sure_ though? I mean, I'm with Hermione...I don't care either way, but...how can you be sure?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, then moved to get up. To stall, he went to take a drink, but realized he'd finished it while talking. Needing a refill, Harry went back to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a double. Drinks at Bellamy's. Drinks at Malfoy's. Drinks at home. _So much for not drinking a lot_, he thought, chuckling inside.

"Well..." he started, turning around slowly. "I went out tonight. Like I said. And...well...I mighthaverunintoMalfoy."

Ron blinked and frowned, like he was processing. "Come again," he said after a second. "I didn't quite get that."

But Hermione had. "You had drinks with..._Malfoy_, Harry?" she queried, her nose scrunching up.

"I'm afraid so," Harry said as he scratched his messy head and sat down—then sighed and nodded firmly. "Yes. And then I went back to his place and—"

"You _WHAT_?!" Ron bellowed. His confused expression was now gone and he looked...a little upset.

Harry swallowed worriedly. How could he have forgotten the way Ron sometimes—a lot of times—blew things out of proportion? This would probably be one of those times. "I mean, we didn't _do_ anything...justmaybesnoggedalittle," he said quickly.

Ron's eyes narrowed—then he burst out laughing. "Oh Merlin! I cannot _wait_ to tell George! Really, Harry? _Seriously_?!"

Harry's face went bright red. _Okay, so maybe this _wouldn't_ be one of those times_, Harry thought, relaxing slightly. And then the Floo flared green and the blond they were discussing stepped through.

"Potter, you forgot your..." Draco started...but paused when he saw who was in Harry's—he glanced around—drawing room? "Your robes."

Ron stared at the Slytherin git for a second, then glanced at Harry's robes—which were clutched in the other man's hand—then looked at his friend in surprise. "You two taking your clothes off _already_?"

Draco snorted. "Not _all_ of them, Weasel. I do believe it's still customary to take a guest's robes when he visits though, yes? Or is that something only a host with _manners_ remembers to do?"

Ron didn't answer. Instead he glared—fiercely—and watched Harry closely as he got up to take the garment from the blond.

"Thanks, Malfoy," the dark-haired man said sheepishly. "I'd forget my head if it weren't attached."

Smirking, Draco leaned close and brushed his lips over Harry's—keeping the green-eyed man's friends in view _just_ so he could see the looks of astonishment on their faces. He was rewarded when Granger's eyes went as wide as saucers and her mouth dropped open and Weasley's fists clenched. Smiling with satisfaction, he focused on Potter.

"While I'm certain you have more than one of these," he said, "I wanted to return this immediately."

"To test that my Floo was indeed open to you?" asked Harry, unconsciously reaching out and touching the hem of the blond's untucked shirt. Thankfully, he was dressed again—in a casual button-up, Muggle denims, and leather loafers—because, how would Harry explain it if he'd whooshed in bare-chested, sporting only lounge pants? And further, if _that_ would have happened, how in Merlin's name would he have found a way to get his friend _out_ of the house so that he could go back to snogging the blond—and possibly do more to him?

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps."

Harry chuckled—then looked at his friends. "So, yeah, I was at Malfoy's," he said, slightly more confident, though is face did pink a little.

"Have a problem with that?" Draco asked them.

"Be nice, Malfoy," Harry scolded.

Standing, Hermione moved over to them and forced herself to smile. "Hello, Draco," she said, offering her hand. "It's been a long time."

The blond's brows raised with surprise as he stared at the woman's hand—for just a second—then he reached out and took it.

"That it has, Granger," he said. "I trust that life is treating you well."

Hermione nodded. "I can't really complain," she responded. "You?"

Draco shrugged. "As well as can be expected."

Not really knowing what that meant, Hermione frowned—then looked back at Ron and gave him a look.

For a moment, Ron only stared at her, obviously confused by what she was silently trying to convey to him. Then it was like a bell rang in his head. _Get your arse over here, Ronald_! he heard, though she'd not said anything aloud. Standing, he joined the other three people in the room.

"Ferret," he acknowledged without putting his hand out.

"Weasel," Draco replied, moving himself just a touch closer to Harry.

Both Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes.

"So then," Harry started, "are we good?"

Hermione chewed on her lip. "Of course, Harry. Whatever makes you happy."

Ron reached up and rubbed his neck—it was aching and he also thought he felt a headache coming on—but in the end he shrugged. "Yeah...what Hermione said, I guess," he said, sending another glare at the blond.

Ignoring the look, Harry grinned. "_Brilliant_!" he burst—a little too loudly—then took Draco's hand said, "We're drinking."

"Is that your idea of an offer, Potter?"

Harry nodded—causing the blond to chuckle.

"You always did like to state the obvious," he said.

Harry huffed. "So, is that a yes or no, Malfoy?"

* * *

><p><strong>Time to Choose!<strong>

_**Should **_**Draco**_** accept Harry's offer to stay and have a drink with him and his friends—even though it's sure to be as awkward as fuck? **_(go to chapter 26)

_OR_

_**Should **_**Draco**_** decline Harry's offer to stay and have a drink with him and his friends—possibly upsetting Harry and causing him to think he's not changed **_**at all**_** in the time since they left Hogwarts? **_(go to chapter 27)

* * *

><p>Okay, I have a <strong>request<strong>, because I'm interested in the path everyone is taking. Would everyone be so kind as to either "review" their path numbers (for example:**1 – 3 – 7 – 13 – 23 – 18 – 28**)..._OR_...send it to me via PM. I'm just curious.

Further, I'm not sure if everyone is sticking to the DO NOT READ STRAIGHT THROUGH thing... *glares angrily at those who aren't following the instructions* ...and so I feel like I need to apologize for chapters that repeat themselves. Some of the chapters are quite similar. In fact, they're nearly _exactly_ the same. Or parts of them are, because, while you are able to take Harry in different directions, this really is just one story line. If that makes sense...hmm...IDK.

Anyway, thanks for continuing to read!


	17. Chapter 17

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused (see first chapter (or any chapter before prior to 14 for full instructions)).

To **Amu4ever**...sorry...I don't seem capable of leaving out at least a tiny warning. Lol. Thanks for continuing to read!

_**YOU decided that Harry should keep it all in, telling no one. After all, it's nobody's business, but his own, right?**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen <strong>(from chapter 9)

After leaving Malfoy's flat, Harry _walked_—and walked and walked—_desperately_ needing some time to think. Part of him wanted to Apparate home—immediately—and have a good wank. _Merlin_, he'd spent the last couple hours rock hard and wanting. He and Malfoy had snogged quite a bit and groped a little. Okay, more than a little...but he'd not let the blond into his denims, nor had he allowed the other man to remove his own—though he'd certainly made ever attempt. It was just too soon for that, as far as Harry was concerned. After all, this whole thing had only _just_ come about. _Tonight_!

Another part of him needed this walk—and so he kept going, making his way back to Charing Cross Road and eventually into the Leaky Cauldron. At the bar, he smiled at Neville's wife, Hannah Longbottom (née Abbott).

"Hiya, Hannah," he said as he slid onto a barstool.

"Hi there, Harry," she said, smiling. "Nev's upstairs. You want me to fetch him?"

Harry frowned. "Naw. I was just...out walking and decided to stop in for a drink."

She smiled. "Something warm? I have coffee on."

"That would be brilliant," Harry said, shivering a little. "Just one though, then you _must_ boot me out or I'll never get to sleep tonight."

Hannah laughed. "I know what _that's_ like," she said, grabbing the coffee pot and two clean mugs and pouring a cup for each of them. "Nev prefers tea, but I fancy coffee."

"That's his gran," Harry said. "I suspect she practically poured it down Neville's throat."

Rolling her eyes, Hannah said, "I wouldn't be surprised"—then paused just enough time so that they could both take a drink of their coffee.

"Oh, that's good. _Nothing_ like Tom's coffee."

"I know, right," the blonde woman said with a grin. "His was like mud."

Harry nodded at his mug. "Definitely not mud _here_."

"So, Harry, what brings you out walking at nearly one in the morning?" she asked.

Sighing, Harry shoulders tightened. "It's...a long story and I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about it. Bottom line is...Gin's broken up with me."

Hannah's eyes widened. "Oh. I'm so sorry, Harry," she said, reaching out and putting her hand on his arm.

"Surprisingly though, I'm not terribly upset about it," Harry went on. "What does _that_ say?"

Hannah shrugged. "That it's for the best. I always thought the two of you would...I don't know...get married and have lots of little red-haired babies." She grinned.

Harry chuckled. "So did I."

"So, I saw you come through here earlier," she said, changing the subject. "With Malfoy. That have anything to do with Ginny?"

Harry's eyes widened. "You saw that?"

Hannah smirked. "Of _course_."

"Hmm. And no, it has nothing to do with Ginny...breaking up with me." He frowned. "Not really."

The blonde smiled with understanding. "And _there_ lies the part you're not ready to talk about. It's all right, Harry, you don't have to give me the details. I reckon the whole wizarding population will be all up in your business before you're ready. Nothing's changed, I think."

Harry sighed. "Right," he said, standing. "Thanks for the coffee, Hannah. Mind if I use your Floo to go home?"

She shrugged. "It's all yours, Harry. But please, do come see us soon, yeah? Nev would love to see you."

He nodded. "Will do, Hannah," he said. "Night."

"Goodnight, Harry," she said, smiling.

**~oOo~**

Once home, Harry's mind instantly went back to wanking. He couldn't help himself, really..._right_? After all, he _was_ a virile man in his twenties with wants and needs. And he _needed_ to have a good wank!

And so, he could get up to his bedroom fast enough, as far as he was concerned. Well, that was the plan anyway, until he saw Hermione's note, scribbled in her recognizable writing—though having an impatient slant—on a small piece of parchment, and left for him, magicked to the door of his drawing room in such a way that he couldn't miss it.

Dear Harry,

Ron, Ginny, and I stopped by to  
>check on you. Ron was here earlier,<br>but you weren't home. This worried  
>us, of course, given what's happened<br>between you and Ginny, so...the  
>three of us came back.<p>

WHERE ARE YOU, HARRY?!

Anyway, I hope you're all right.  
>Please send me your Patronus...<br>or something...when you get home.

Love Always,

Hermione

Chuckling, Harry rolled his eyes, but pulled out his wand to comply with her request. It was silly, really, but he didn't want to keep them up all night worrying. And so he sent a quick—'_Not to worry. Home now. Went out for a few drinks. Really tired though, so I'm going to bed. Talk to you later. Love, Harry._'—and hoped it would be enough to keep his friends from Flooing over yet again!

But then, knowing his friends, Harry closed his Floo, to prevent them from coming through until _at least_ noon the next day.

"And _now_, I think I'll have that wank," the dark-haired man said out loud as he pocketed his wand and headed for the stairs, a soft smile on his face as he thought about what had brought him to this.

**The End**

* * *

><p>Okay, I have a <strong>request<strong>, because I'm interested in the path everyone is taking. Would everyone be so kind as to either "review" their path numbers (for example:**1 – 3 – 7 – 13 – 23 – 18 – 28**)..._OR_...send it to me via PM. I'm just curious.

Further, I'm not sure if everyone is sticking to the DO NOT READ STRAIGHT THROUGH thing... *glares angrily at those who aren't following the instructions* ...and so I feel like I need to apologize for chapters that repeat themselves. Some of the chapters are quite similar. In fact, they're nearly _exactly_ the same. Or parts of them are, because, while you are able to take Harry in different directions, this really is just one story line. If that makes sense...hmm...IDK.

Anyway, thanks for continuing to read!


	18. Chapter 18

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused (see first chapter (or any chapter before prior to 14 for full instructions)).

To **Amu4ever**...sorry...I don't seem capable of leaving out at least a tiny warning. Lol. Thanks for continuing to read!

_**YOU decided that Harry's best friends should stay for a drink—or three.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen <strong>(from chapter 11)

Hermione looked at Ron and gave him a look—her '_don't you even _think_ about leaving_,' look. And he nodded, of course, because...that's what Ron did.

"Sure, mate, we'll stay," he said, his eyes going to Ginny. She was frowning, but shrugged.

"All right. Fine," she said. "I'm hungry though. If we're drinking, then I want take away too."

Harry laughed—because Ginny'd always had an appetite—and said...

"_Pizza_!" at the same time as she did.

They grinned at each other. They might have just broken up, but some things were simple.

"I'll call," Hermione said, pulling out her mobile.

Ginny immediately pulled Hermione over to where Harry kept the menus and started pointing. A few minutes later the two of them had ordered three gigantic pizzas.

"Okay then...they said, thirty minutes," Hermione informed the group.

"Yeah. Hermione and I will just pop over there and pick them up," Ginny said.

Dudley frowned. "Why not have it delivered?"

Ginny shook her head. "Can't. There are many spells and enchantments on the house here...Muggles can't even see it unless they come with Harry."

Dudley nodded. "Gotcha."

"So, we'll just go and be back shortly," said Hermione, holding out her hand for Ginny to take, so that the redhead could Apparate them—Side-Along, because Hermione didn't know this particular place.

Taking Hermione's hand, the two women were gone.

"This is awkward," Ron said. "You and Gin not together is...weird."

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry."

Ron glanced at Dudley, then back at his friend. "Gin...she thinks you're gay, mate."

Dudley laughed. "He _is_ gay," he said.

Ron froze. "W-what?!"

"Dudley seems to agree with Ginny, Ron," Harry said. "I...can't say for certain though. All I _know_ is that it surely isn't anything I've ever considered."

Getting up, Ron went to Harry's liquor cabinet and pulled out the firewhisky and three glasses, then returned to the sofa and sat down, putting the bottle and glasses on the table.

"All this time I've been hoping you'd marry my sister so that you'd _finally_ be a Weasley." He frowned as he thought about surnames—then shook his head. "Well, you know what I mean. So...yeah. I guess I should have been pushing you towards Charlie."

Harry laughed. "I still don't have this figured out, Ron."

"Who's Charlie?" asked Dudley.

Ron looked at Harry's cousin. "One of my older brothers. Works with dragons in Romania," he said, his blue eyes going back to Harry. "_Really_?"

Harry shrugged. "I have _no_ idea."

Dudley started to laugh—but was interrupted by...the delivery of a letter! A red letter, floating right in front of _him_!

"Oh great," he said with a sigh as he watched smoke emanate off the letter, "a Howler." He looked at Harry and Ron and pointed at the pulsing red thing before him. "Ever receive one of these?"

They both nodded.

"Nasty piece of magic, I tell you," the blond man continued.

Ron gulped and pointed at it. "Better open it or it'll explode."

Dudley laughed. "Sometimes it's better to just let them go, you know? I mean, why give the sender the satisfaction of yelling at you. Though, I know it's from the wife and that she's probably fuming that I've not answered her calls all evening. Probably called mum." He sighed. "All right...here goes."

DUDLEY VIRGIL DURSLEY!

HOW _DARE_ YOU IGNORE MY CALLS!  
>I'VE BEEN CALLING <em>ALL<em> NIGHT!

I FIGURED YOU WERE OUT WITH YOUR  
>GOOD FOR NOTHING FRIENDS, BUT...<br>YOUR MOTHER SAYS YOU'RE OUT WITH  
>YOUR COUSIN!<p>

The letter then shifted and moved over to Harry—and continued!

HARRY POTTER!

DON'T YOU _DARE_ THINK YOU CAN  
>TAKE MY HUSBAND AWAY FROM ME!<br>I _SWEAR_ TO YOU THAT I WILL _NOT_ ALLOW IT!  
>I WILL NOT! AND I WANT ACCESS TO<br>HIM _IMMEDIATELY_! DO YOU HEAR ME?!  
>WHEREVER YOU IDIOTS ARE, I DEMAND THAT<br>THE FLOO IS OPENED TO ME—_NOW_!—OR,  
>BY SALAZAR'S NAME, YOU WILL PAY!<p>

The letter once again moved to the original recipient...and soften a little.

_I'm at Rickon's—as you know—and  
>I <em>expect_ to hear from you forthwith!  
>Please.<em>

And then the letter puffed a few more times before bursting into flames, its hissing steam sort of dissipating as it turned to ashes.

"Who the bloody hell are you married to, mate!" Ron burst shuddering. "Because, _that_ was reminiscent of my mum."

Dudley laughed—as did Harry. "Figures you're married to a Slytherin," he said.

"Oh, my Patty Cake is really just a pussy cat...but let's not tell her I said that. And...I probably _should_ let her know where I am." He looked at Harry. "Is that okay?"

Harry shrugged. "It's fine. Tell her to come through. Address is Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. I'll open the Floo."

Nodding, Dudley reached into his pocket for his phone.

**~oOo~**

Ginny had taken them to a safe place—an Apparition Point—then the two women started out onto the street. It was fairly late at night, but still quite busy out; it _was_ Friday night, after all. For a few minutes they walked in silence—and then Hermione had to speak.

"Are you all right, Ginny?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm fine. This is just...weird."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. It is," she agreed. "Do you _really_ think—"

"He's gay, Hermione," the redhead finished for her friend. "I'd be willing to bet my Snitch-catching hand on it."

Hermione frowned. "I just...don't know how _I_ didn't see it."

Ginny chuckled. "You can't know _everything_," she said as they walked into the pizza place.

"Oh, I don't _know_," a voice drawled. "Granger pretty much knows it _all_, doesn't she?"

Both Ginny and Hermione turned at the familiar voice, their eyes widening in surprise.

"What are _you_ doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, her nose bunching up.

The blond shrugged. "Getting pizza. What else?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "I think she meant in Muggle London, you git!" she snapped, her hand twitching, as if it wanted to reach into her pocket for her wand.

Draco rolled his eyes, confident he was safe from the redhead's Bat-bogey hexes, being in a Muggle establishment and all. "I _live_ in Muggle London, ladies...just down the street, in fact. Where _else_ would I be? Further, this happens to be my favorite place for a midnight pizza."

Ginny harrumphed, but Hermione cocked her head curiously. "A _Malfoy_? Living in Muggle London and eating Muggle pizza? I'm shocked! What's the world coming to?"

Draco smirked. "I know, right."

"And what do mummy and daddy have to say about that?" Ginny taunted.

The blond scowled and opened his mouth to retort, but—

"Draco, I'm not sure about this place," another cut in, pausing when he saw who his friend was standing with—then continuing without acknowledging them. "I mean, I _know_ Italian food and this place...I don't know." His eyes went back to the two Gryffindors.

"Zabini," Hermione greeted.

Blaise smirked. "_Granger_," he returned, then looked at Ginny and narrowed his eyes. "Weaselette."

Ginny glared. "_Poser_!"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Get over yourself, Red!"

Ginny huffed.

"GRANGER! Your pizzas are ready!" someone shouted. "MALFOY! Order's up!"

Both Hermione and Draco moved to get their take away, their shoulders bumping. The witch shoved somewhat hard, causing the wizard to chuckle.

"Fancy that, Granger," he said as they came up to the counter. "The both of us, in the same place, at the same time. How propitious."

"Hmm," was all she said as she paid—then she turned on the blond. "How do you figure?"

Draco shrugged. "Just that, you know, maybe we could let the past go. We could even move the fuck on and...I don't know...meet for a drink or something. You can even bring your little lapdogs." He smirked, his gray eyes twinkling.

Hermione's eyes widened for a second, then narrowed. "_Or_, we could let sleeping Crups lie," she said. "As in, _you're_ trouble, so we should just stay away from you." She poked her finger into his chest, then reached for her pizzas.

The blond flinched, then clenched his jaw. "Things have changed, Granger. _I've_ changed."

She snorted. "Right. And I can see that with the way you're goading me."

Draco frowned—then sighed. "I don't mean to," he said. "It's just...the way I am. There's nothing nefarious about it though. Think of it as more...in jest."

She snorted. "Yes, because I can think of _you_ and _amusement_ at the same time. Not."

Draco sighed. "Fine then. Don't. I'm just saying that, if I can make this sort of gesture, then...surely _you_ could be more accommodating. But fine...don't be!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not as if you've _ever_ been accommodating to any of us, Malfoy. You were always quite a bit more than an arse."

He shrugged. "No, you're right in that. But I am trying. Right now," he specified.

She sighed. "All right. Let's start over," she said, shuffling the pizza boxes to one hand and sticking out her other one. "Hello, Draco. It's...interesting to see you again."

Draco looked down at the woman's hand, frowned, then put his hand in hers. "Pleasure, Hermione," he said, smiling—then pushed forward. "You and the She-Weasel picking up food and...doing what exactly?"

Hermione huffed at the epithet. "Not that it's any of your business, _Ferret_, but...we're going back to Harry's."

Chuckling, Draco glanced over at Ginny Weasley, where she seemed to be having a similar conversation with his friend—though possibly slightly more hostile—then down at the witch in front of him again.

"Oh nice. A little Gryffindor gathering," he said. "We sometimes have those at mine. Slytherin ones, I mean. Obviously. It's good to get the old gang together, yeah?"

Hermione frowned at the blond...and his polite chitchat. It was weird. It felt like he was doing everything in his power to keep it going and she didn't know how she felt about it. She nodded. "It's more difficult now that we're all grown up and working, but yes...good," she said. "I...ahh...think I should get back. Ron and Harry are waiting."

He nodded and followed her back to their friends. Blaise was, of course, taunting Ginny—and the redhead was fuming.

"Fuck you, Zabini!" they heard the witch say as they approached.

"I could go for that," he said provokingly.

She snorted. "Not on your life!" she snapped, arms crossed over her chest.

The dark man chortled. "So serious! Not to worry, I'm sure Potter would have my head if I made a move on his property."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I do not _belong_ to Harry...or anyone else for that matter."

Blaise grinned. "Single then? Hmm."

"Fuck you!" she said again.

"You already said that and...refused my offer."

She rolled her eyes—as did Draco and Hermione.

"I have our pizzas," Hermione said, trying to prevent her friend from exploding. "Ready?"

Ginny nodded emphatically, then glared at Blaise Zabini. "Goodbye, Poser!"

He laughed again. "Hey, how about you two invite us over? We'll add our pizza to yours and...have a party. For old time's sake."

Hermione scoffed. "In what time, old or otherwise, have we _ever_ hung out?"

The dark man smiled. "The Slug Club."

Hermione glanced at Ginny—who looked appalled—then back at the two wizards. "Hold on a moment," she said, grabbing her friend and pulling her to the side, then whispering. "What do you think?"

Ginny's eyes widened. "What do I think about _what_ exactly?"

"Inviting them to Harry's, of course."

"I think you're _bloody_ crazy! Ron and Harry would flip."

Hermione grinned. "Draco's right. It's time to let things go."

Ginny's brows raised. "So, it's _Draco_ now?!" she burst, just a little too loudly.

The bushy-haired woman sighed. "Don't pull that shite with me, Gin."

Frowning, Ginny glanced over at the men—they were leaning close and whispering to one another—then back at her friend. "I don't know, Hermione. Tonight is...weird. With Harry and I breaking up and...I don't know. Add Malfoy and Zabini to the mix and..." She shrugged with uncertainty. "Whatever, I guess."

* * *

><p><strong>Time to Choose!<strong>

_**Should Hermione and Ginny throw caution to the wind and invite the two Slytherins back to Grimmauld Place (without even checking with Harry)?**_(go to chapter 28)

_OR_

_**Should Hermione and Ginny decide that it's **_**really**_** a bad idea to invite two snakes over to Harry's place (without even asking him) and turn them down?**_ (go to chapter 29)

* * *

><p>Okay, I have a <strong>request<strong>, because I'm interested in the path everyone is taking. Would everyone be so kind as to either "review" their path numbers (for example:**1 – 3 – 7 – 13 – 23 – 18 – 28**)..._OR_...send it to me via PM. I'm just curious.

Further, I'm not sure if everyone is sticking to the DO NOT READ STRAIGHT THROUGH thing... *glares angrily at those who aren't following the instructions* ...and so I feel like I need to apologize for chapters that repeat themselves. Some of the chapters are quite similar. In fact, they're nearly _exactly_ the same. Or parts of them are, because, while you are able to take Harry in different directions, this really is just one story line. If that makes sense...hmm...IDK.

Anyway, thanks for continuing to read!


	19. Chapter 19

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused (see first chapter (or any chapter before prior to 14 for full instructions)).

To **Amu4ever**...sorry...I don't seem capable of leaving out at least a tiny warning. Lol. Thanks for continuing to read!

_**YOU decided that Ron, Hermione, and Ginny should bow out and let their friend have the evening alone with his cousin.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen <strong>(from chapter 11)

Hermione looked at her boyfriend and gave him a look that clearly said she wanted to stay. But Ron pretty much just ignored her, exaggerating a yawn and pretending stretch.

"I'm actually pretty tired, Hermione," he said

She sighed. "All right," she said, looking at Harry and his cousin. "It was nice to meet you, Dudley. I'm so glad you and Harry have been able to reconnect."

Dudley smiled. "I am too. And it was great meeting you as well. Maybe we can all get together sometime...when everyone's more rested," he added with a glance at Ron.

Hermione nodded. "I'd like that. We all would."

Ron kept his express neutral, but Ginny frowned. At this point she had no bloody clue what she'd _like_ to do. She'd _like_ to be dating Harry, with the promise of marriage and children in the future. But, for _that_ to happen, Harry would have to be straight—and she was all but certain that he was not. And that made her sad, if only for herself, because, bottom line was, she just wanted Harry to be happy—even if it wasn't with her.

Forcing herself to smile, Ginny stepped forward. "Yes, I think that would be lovely. Let's plan on it."

Dudley grinned.

"Anyway, thanks for inviting us to stay," Hermione continued. "And sorry we can't."

Harry shrugged. "You know it's fine, Hermione. There'll be plenty of other times."

She smiled, then moved to the Floo. Ron and Ginny followed, leaving one by one in reverse order. Last to go was Hermione. She looked between Harry and his cousin, her brown eyes setting on her friend.

"You're all right, Harry?" she asked.

Giving her a small smile, the dark-haired man nodded. "Of course. I _always_ am."

Hermione had to laugh. "This is true. Even when you had a madman after you."

Harry grinned. "Even then."

"Good night, guys," she said—then was gone.

For a second the cousins stared at the dark Floo, then Dudley spoke. "Awkward much?"

Harry laughed. "Just a bit. They're good friends though. Always there when I need them."

Dudley nodded. "That's good, I guess," he said. "So...tell me about Ginny."

Harry shrugged. "She thinks I'm gay."

Dudley laughed. "You _are_ gay," he said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, _I_ can't say for certain. All I know for sure is that this _definitely_ isn't something I've ever considered," he said, getting up and going to his liquor cabinet and pulling out the firewhisky and a couple glasses. After pouring, he returned to the sofa with their drinks and handed Dudley his before sitting.

"Ginny though...she's great. Smart, fun, pretty," Harry said. "She's a year younger than us and I've known her since my first year at Hogwarts. Sort of. I mean, I met her and Ron's mum and three of their brothers just before my first train ride to school. Molly...that's their mum...was the on who told me how to get onto the train platform. You have to walk through a wall, but I didn't know that."

"Walk through a wall?" Dudley questioned.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. It's weird," he said, grinning—then shrugging. "So yeah, I've known Gin a long time and...I guess she's liked me from the beginning. Took me a while to catch on, I guess."

"How's the sex?"

"It's brilliant," said Harry. "I mean, she's very...enthusiastic."

Dudley started to laugh—but was interrupted by...the delivery of a letter! A red letter, floating right in front of _him_!

"Oh great," he said with a sigh as he watched smoke emanate off the letter, "a _Howler_." He looked at Harry and pointed at the pulsing red thing before him. "Ever receive one of these?"

They both nodded.

"Nasty piece of magic, I tell you," the blond man continued. "Horrible."

Harry grinned and pointed at it. "Better open it or it'll explode."

Dudley laughed. "Sometimes it's better to just let them go, you know? I mean, why give the sender the satisfaction of yelling at you. Though, I know it's from the wife and that she's probably fuming that I've not answered her calls all evening. Probably called mum." He sighed. "All right...here goes."

DUDLEY VIRGIL DURSLEY!

HOW _DARE_ YOU IGNORE MY CALLS!  
>I'VE BEEN CALLING <em>ALL<em> NIGHT!

I FIGURED YOU WERE OUT WITH YOUR  
>GOOD FOR NOTHING FRIENDS, BUT...<br>YOUR MOTHER SAYS YOU'RE OUT WITH  
>YOUR COUSIN!<p>

The letter then shifted and moved over to Harry—and _continued_!

HARRY POTTER!

DON'T YOU _DARE_ THINK YOU CAN  
>TAKE MY HUSBAND AWAY FROM ME!<br>I _SWEAR_ TO YOU THAT I WILL _NOT_ ALLOW IT!  
>I WILL NOT! AND I WANT ACCESS TO<br>HIM _IMMEDIATELY_! DO YOU HEAR ME?!  
>WHEREVER YOU IDIOTS ARE, I DEMAND THAT<br>THE FLOO IS OPENED TO ME—_NOW_!—OR,  
>BY SALAZAR'S NAME, YOU WILL PAY!<p>

The letter once again moved to the original recipient...and soften a little.

_I'm at Rickon's—as you know—and  
>I <em>expect_ to hear from you forthwith!  
>Please.<em>

And then the letter puffed a few more times before bursting into flames, its hissing steam sort of dissipating as it turned to ashes.

"The wife then, I take it?"

Dudley laughed and nodded. "Obviously."

Snorting, Harry said, "Figures you're married to a Slytherin."

"Oh, my Patty Cake is really just a pussy cat...but let's not tell her I said that. And...I probably _should_ let her know where I am." He looked at Harry. "Is that okay?"

Harry shrugged. "It's fine. Tell her to come through. Address is Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. I'll open the Floo."

Nodding, Dudley reached into his pocket for his phone.

**~oOo~**

Within moments of the call to Dudley's wife, Harry's Floo flared green, bringing a very angry witch into Harry's drawing room—and Harry stared at her in shocked astonishment. He'd _known_ a Slytherin was coming, but he hadn't been prepared for the snake that appeared. It was Pansy Parkinson.

Smiling, Dudley stood up and went to her—and Harry just watched them.

"Sorry, sweetie," Dudley said to her as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. She struggled a bit—in her anger—to remove herself from his grasp, then stopped. Obviously she couldn't break his tight hold. Not without magic anyway—which was something she'd sworn she'd never do. She'd even found a way to write it into their vows without their Muggle wedding guests knowing.

But while Pansy ceased resisting the embrace, she wasn't very accepting either. Instead, she stood there rigidly, waiting for her husband to end his niceties.

And when he did, she glared up at him. "I called you...like...thirteen times!"

"Sorry," he said. "I was out and didn't check my mobile."

"But...you _know_ how I hate using that thing," she went on. "What's the point of even having it if you don't pick up?!"

Dudley raised a brow at his little witch—Harry'd noticed that Pansy was _tiny_ compared to him—and said, "Pansy, this is the first time ever that I've not answered the phone. I think you're going overboard."

She huffed—then peeked around her husband and looked at the other man in the room.

"Potter," she said.

Standing, Harry nodded a greeting. "Parkinson."

She turned her face up slightly and narrowed her eyes. "Dursley," she corrected.

"Dursley-Parkinson, actually," Dudley amended—then steered the woman further into the room and said, "Harry, this is my wife, Pansy. And honey, this is my cousin, Harry. You've already met...obviously."

They both nodded, neither really knowing what to say. Then Harry shrugged and said, "We're having firewhisky. Would you like some?"

Pansy blinked with surprise. She'd fully expected the Chosen One to rail at her, possibly even hex her, then kick her out of his house—or something equally nasty—but he just offered her a drink.

She nodded numbly, her dark eyes wide and still somewhat fearful.

"She'd prefer wine, actually...if you have it," Dudley said.

"Oh. Of course," Harry said with a nod. "I'll have to call a house-elf for that though."

Dudley shrugged. "Like I said, I've seen them before."

"Right. Okay then," Harry said—then called out, "_Debby_!"

_CRACK_!

"Good evening, sirs. Madam," a house-elf in a red gingham dress greeted cheerfully, then asked, "What cans Debby be doing for yous tonight?"

"Debby, would you mind bringing in a few more bottles of wine? Um. How about a Chardonnay and a Merlot—and some White Zinfandel too," he said, unsure what Parkinson—he _couldn't_ call her Dursley—would prefer and not really ready to ask.

Nodding vigorously, a house-elf popped out of the room, but quickly reappeared with three bottles of wine.

"Debby has brought you the wine, Mr. Potter, sir," she said, then looked at his guests. "Which would you like, madam?"

Taken slightly aback—because she was surprised to find out Potter had a house-elf—Pansy just stared for a moment. Then, recovering, she answered. "Um. The Merlot would be nice. Thank you," she added, her voice barely above a whisper, once the red-clad house-elf had finished.

_Clearly, Potter didn't _own_ the prettily dressed creature_, she quickly deduced.

"Come on in, Pans. Sit," said Dudley. He'd taken up her free hand and pulled on it until she gave in and allowed herself to be brought to the sofa.

Sitting, she clutched at him with one hand and held her glass of wine with the other—and watched as Harry Potter sat across from them—then took a sip to distract herself.

"So...ahh...Parkinson. Er..." Harry faltered, then rubbed his stubbly jaw. "I...um...can't call you by your surname now, so..._Pansy_ then. If that's all right?"

Her eyes widened—then she nodded. "Not sure I can call you anything except Potter though," she said.

He shrugged. "It's fine."

Pansy narrowed her eyes and frowned, then took a healthy drink of her wine—then gulped the remainder down and put her glass on the table in front of her. For a moment she focused on her hands and then glanced up at Harry. "Look, Potter," she started, "we were all so horrible to you in school and...I'm sorry."

Both Harry and Dudley stared at her in surprise—Dudley possibly closer to astonishment.

"Wow, hun...I don't think I've ever heard those words leave your mouth before," Dudley teased—to which he received a sharp slap to his thigh and a fierce glare.

"Now _that's_ the Pansy _I_ know," Harry quipped, grinning.

Pansy's head snapped around and she glowered at the man in front of her. "Don't push me, Potter!" she sneered. "I might have regrets, but...I'm still the same person."

Harry nodded. "Noted," he said as he leaned forward and picked up the bottle of wine to pour the witch a second glass—in hopes of calming her. She immediately reached for it and, sitting back, sipped.

"So...how are things?" she asked curiously.

Harry shrugged. "Better than the last time I saw you, but...could be better. Ginny's broken up with me. Tonight, actually, so..." He shrugged again.

"That's how I ran into Harry, Pans. I was out with the guys and Harry just happened to be in the same place," Dudley explained. "After that we decided to drive out to mum and dad's to say hi, then Harry brought me here. His friends were here for a bit, then you sent your howler."

Pansy grimaced, her little pug nose scrunching up. "Weasley and Granger?"

Harry nodded. "Of course."

"So, darling," Dudley started, "obviously you knew I was Harry's cousin. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Blushing, Pansy sighed. "I didn't know...in the beginning. I figured it out though and just...never mentioned it. The timing never seemed right."

"You never told Draco or Blaise?" Dudley pushed.

Pansy shook her head. She knew Dudley sometimes got upset over her friendship with Draco...she had, after all, lost her virginity to the other man. But that was ages ago and...well, times were different!

"I figured _you_ should be the one I told first," she said, "but I just couldn't figure out _how_ to tell you."

Dudley looked appeased. "It's fine. I know now."

She smiled up at him adoringly, then leaned into him when he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed.

Harry watched, intrigued—then spoke when their moment seemed to pass. "So...ahh...Malfoy and Zabini. You're all still friends?"

Pansy nodded. "Of _course_," she drawled. "Grimmauld Place. We're in London, right?"

Both Harry and Dudley nodded. "Not too far from the Leaky," said Harry.

"Yeah. Draco doesn't live too far from here, actually," she stated. "Oh _Salazar_, I cannot believe I'm sitting in Harry Potter's living room!"

Harry chuckled. "To be honest, I can't believe you're here either. That either one of you are. This is...surreal."

"_So_ surreal!" the witch said. "But good, yeah?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Good to move beyond our pasts."

Pansy grinned. "I'll drink to that," she said, holding up her glass.

Both Harry and Dudley did the same. The three of them then clinked their glasses and drank.

"And I _am_ sorry, Potter," she repeated. "I mean, what I _tried_ to do to you in school that day...I've always regretted it."

The dark-haired man shrugged. "It all turned out fine in the end. You and yours...left. We fought...and won. But we've all grown up and all is right with the world."

Dudley snorted. "Well, not _everything_," he said. "There's the issue of the redhead leaving you and...your sexual identity being called into question."

Pansy gasped. "Oh my god!" she burst. "You're _gay_?"

Harry rolled his eyes and Dudley nodded. "Harry can't seem to decide, but I'd bet my bollocks on it."

This caused Pansy to snort. "Let's not do _that_, darling...we still need those," she said, patting her husbands thigh and grinning up at him, then turning back to Harry. "Well, I know someone who's been obsessed with you for years!" she went on. "Someone who _ought_ to settle down himself."

"And who's that?" Harry asked, not really wanting to know.

"Why, _Draco_, of course," she said. "This is perfect!"

"As...ahh..._interesting_ as that sounds," said Harry, "I think I need some time to let this little break up settle in. And maybe sort myself out."

Pansy snorted. "I'm sure Draco could help you there, Potter," she offered for her friend.

"I think I can do it on my own, thanks," said Harry.

The witch pouted. "Fine then, Potter! Sit around and sulk if you want. _Be_ alone! See if _I_ care."

Harry laughed—as did Dudley—but he wasn't ready to meet any other old Hogwarts classmates. Not yet anyway. It was definitely too soon as far as Harry was concerned. Though, he did see it happening eventually. Just...not on _this_ bizarre night!

**The End.**

* * *

><p>Okay, I have a <strong>request<strong>, because I'm interested in the path everyone is taking. Would everyone be so kind as to either "review" their path numbers (for example:**1 – 3 – 7 – 13 – 23 – 18 – 28**)..._OR_...send it to me via PM. I'm just curious.

Further, I'm not sure if everyone is sticking to the DO NOT READ STRAIGHT THROUGH thing... *glares angrily at those who aren't following the instructions* ...and so I feel like I need to apologize for chapters that repeat themselves. Some of the chapters are quite similar. In fact, they're nearly _exactly_ the same. Or parts of them are, because, while you are able to take Harry in different directions, this really is just one story line. If that makes sense...hmm...IDK.

Anyway, thanks for continuing to read!


	20. Chapter 20

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused (see first chapter (or any chapter before prior to 14 for full instructions)).

To **Amu4ever**...sorry...I don't seem capable of leaving out at least a tiny warning. Lol. Thanks for continuing to read!

_**YOU decided that Harry should stay on the dance floor with Draco Malfoy, someone he'd once considered the enemy.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty <strong>(from chapter 12...or...possibly from somewhere else)

Harry couldn't bring himself to walk off—the Gryffindor in him wouldn't permit it—even though he desperately wanted to. And so he settled himself against Malfoy's chest and allowed the blond to control the way they moved. It was surprisingly easy.

"I don't remember you being so good at this, Potter," Draco whispered into Harry's ear, his breath tickling just a bit.

Harry frowned. He'd been trying to just _feel_ the music, as Zabini had instructed—or was he just feeling Malfoy? Anyway, as soon as he started to think about it again, he felt...sloppy. "I'm _not_ good at this," he muttered—also right into the blond's ear, otherwise it wouldn't have been heard over the music.

Draco chuckled and shifted so that he could rub their bodies together. "Relax, Potter, there's not going to be a test. This isn't Potions with Professor Snape," he said, rocking his hips and pretty much forcing Harry to do the same.

Harry winced at their professor's name, but wasn't able to think about it long because Malfoy's hands were _all_ over him. One went over his hip and down over his arse, pulling him firmly onto the blond's right thigh, and the other slithered up his back and into his perpetually messy hair, grabbing a hold of it and yanking firmly.

Harry winced again, but this time couldn't remember why he had the first time.

"You're way too uptight, Potter," Draco hissed, this time flicking his tongue out and running it along the shell of Harry's ear, then dipping it inside.

Shivering, the dark-haired man's eyes drooped closed, his entire body loosening up.

"That's it. Much better," the blond encouraged, latching his mouth onto Harry's neck—for just a second, to see how the man would react—then nipping and pulling back because he could feel the green eyed man stiffen up again. Chuckling, Draco moved a hand to the small of Harry's back for support, then hooked the other hand on the other man's back and arched him backward, sort of dipping him—but not so much that one would do to a female.

Harry snorted. "I'm not a _girl_, Malfoy," he complained when the blond brought him back up again.

Draco responded by spinning Harry around, so that they were facing the same direction—Harry's back to Draco's front—keeping his hands on Harry's thighs and hips and pulling, so that the dark-haired man's arse rubbed against the front of his trousers—and the hardness there he was now sporting. He ground himself against Harry and knew immediately when the other man felt his erection, because he tried—weakly—to pull away.

Draco would have none of that though. He wrapped one arm around the man in front of him and tightened his grip, then used his other hand to direct one of Harry's up to his neck.

"Touch me back, Potter," he demanded.

Harry complied. He didn't seem capable of refusing at the moment. His eyes closed again and his fingers, seemingly of their own accord, moved up the back of the blond's neck and into his hairline, his fingernails scraping.

Draco groaned. "That's nice, Potter," he said, leaning his head against Harry's to allow the other man better access. "_Very_ nice."

And then the music changed—quite abruptly—making Harry forget what he'd been doing.

Sighing, Draco spun him around again, but didn't separate their joined bodies. "I want to kiss you, Potter. Among other things," he hissed softly into Harry's ear.

Harry stiffened slightly and glanced around. It didn't appear as if anyone were watching them, but...this being totally and completely new to him, he didn't know what to do. He noticed several other couples dancing closely, some obviously just friends or dance partners...others had their mouths attached to various parts of each other's bodies—sucking and nibbling and kissing. This made Harry frown, because he _knew_ he was actually considering the blond's request. This told him one thing; he _was_ gay!

"I...I've never d-done this before, Malfoy," he stammered, pushing away slightly because he needed some space to think.

Draco frowned, his gray eyes searching Harry's green ones. "You haven't?"

Harry shook his head vehemently. "No. Until tonight I was dating Ginny."

Draco cringed. "How the _fuck_ did you end up here, then?" he asked. They'd stopped all pretense of dancing and were just sort of shouting over the music to one another.

Harry shrugged. "Ran into my cousin and his friends and...agreed to go out with them. Dudley's fully convinced that I'm gay." He rolled his eyes.

Draco snorted. "Potter, that hard-on in your pants agrees with him," the blond said, nodding down at the dark-haired man's groin.

Blushing, Harry tried to turn away—but Draco grabbed his shirt sleeve. "There's nothing wrong with this, Potter."

Harry frowned. "With what...my possible gayness?"

Snorting, the blond nodded. "Not _possible_ 'gayness'...you _are_ gay, Potter!"

Harry glared. "I know _that_! I mean..." Harry frowned. "That didn't come out right."

Draco snorted. "You haven't _come out_ at all, Potter. Though, I'd imagine that's going to happen soon enough."

Harry ignored the blond. "What I _meant_ was...I know the _nothing's wrong with it_ part," he clarified. "I'm still undecided on whether or not I'm actually gay."

"Can you say..._denial_?!"

Harry ignored him again. "But there _is_ something wrong with _this_!" he said, gesturing between the two of them. "_Fuck_, Malfoy! I've wanted to choke you since we were eleven."

Draco smirked. "I can think of enjoyable ways to do that," he said. "Choke, I mean."

Harry rolled his eyes." I need to take off...get back to the table."

"To your cousin? _Dudley_, was it?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"How 'bout, you introduce us," the blond pushed.

Harry huffed. "Or not. Maybe you could just...you know...bugger off."

Draco grinned. "Not likely. Besides, I know a Dudley and I'm _extremely_ interested to know whether or not it's the same bloke. Not many Dudleys around, yeah?"

Harry sighed. It was true, there weren't many Dudleys—in his experience. But did he _really_ want Malfoy following him to the table? Not that he could stop him if he were to insist! But..._why the hell couldn't the blond just...fuck off?!_ he thought, frustrated.

* * *

><p><strong>Time to Choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry let Malfoy accompany him back to the table he's sharing with Dudley and friends? **_(go to chapter 30)

_OR_

_**Should Harry basically—or literally—tell Malfoy to fuck off, then go back to Dudley and friends alone? **_(go to chapter 31)

* * *

><p>Okay, I have a <strong>request<strong>, because I'm interested in the path everyone is taking. Would everyone be so kind as to either "review" their path numbers (for example:**1 – 3 – 7 – 13 – 23 – 18 – 28**)..._OR_...send it to me via PM. I'm just curious.

Further, I'm not sure if everyone is sticking to the DO NOT READ STRAIGHT THROUGH thing... *glares angrily at those who aren't following the instructions* ...and so I feel like I need to apologize for chapters that repeat themselves. Some of the chapters are quite similar. In fact, they're nearly _exactly_ the same. Or parts of them are, because, while you are able to take Harry in different directions, this really is just one story line. If that makes sense...hmm...IDK.

Anyway, thanks for continuing to read!


	21. Chapter 21

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused (see first chapter (or any chapter before prior to 14 for full instructions)).

To **Amu4ever**...sorry...I don't seem capable of leaving out at least a tiny warning. Lol. Thanks for continuing to read!

_**YOU decided that Harry should discontinue (dancing with Malfoy) IMMEDIATELY, and go back to the table.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-one <strong>(from chapter 12...or...possibly from somewhere else)

For just a millisecond, Harry let Malfoy hold him—but then he forced himself to back away. This wasn't _at all_ what he'd been thinking when he'd agreed to accompany his cousin to a place like this. No, not at all.

"I...I'm sorry, Malfoy, b-but...I can't do t-this," Harry stammered.

"Do t-this?" the blond said, mocking the other man's stutter, his eyes narrowing angrily as he thought about the other time that the green-eyed man had turned him down—rejected his handshake, _oh_ so many years ago—deeply hurting his feelings.

Of course, Draco had always kept that secret buried deep—like, at the bottom of the Black Lake deep—because revealing such a thing about himself would be viewed as a weakness, which, of course, would be unacceptable.

Harry frowned. "What's your problem, Mal—"

"_Fuck_ you, Potter!" Draco snapped loudly. "I don't have a problem, but apparently _you_ do! And I've had just about enough of your _holier than thou_ shite for a lifetime! Merlin's _fucking_ pants! I _know_ I was a pillock back in the day, _okay_? I get it! But you weren't all that much better! Fucking _Gryffindors_!" the blond ranted, "always thinking they're better than everyone else! The nerve of you people...you...you arrogant, self-righteous do-gooders!" he sneered.

"Er..." was all Harry managed as he glanced around. A few blokes who were close enough to catch a word or two were staring at them, but no one else seemed to be paying attention otherwise.

"That's it! I'm out of here!" the angry Slytherin finally said.

And with that he turned and stalked off, quickly disappearing into the crowd of gyrating bodies and flashing lights. Harry just stood there staring—until another appeared at his side.

"What in Salazar's name did you _say_ to him, Potter?" Blaise demanded, leaning into the other man.

"I...ahh...just told him that I couldn't do this," Harry repeated, dumbfounded.

Blaise rolled his eyes, then sort of chuckled—not that it could be heard over the music—then spoke loud enough for Harry to hear him. "You Gryffindors always did lack sufficient communication skills."

Harry frowned. "I don't understand. What just happened?"

"Draco _heard_, 'I'm not dancing with an evil Slytherin like you!'" Blaise translated.

Green eyes narrowed. "Doesn't say much for Malfoy's _listening_ skills," Harry countered. "I mean, I hardly said a thing and he jumped to conclusions—then didn't let me say anything else. The way I see it, I'm not the only one at fault here."

Blaise laughed. "That's our Draco," he said.

"_Fuck_! I'm new at this!" Harry shouted. "I don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing and—"

"Not to worry, Potter," Blaise interrupted, patting the clearly-confused young man on his heaving chest in a soothing manner. "_You_ go back to your table and _I'll_ go find Draco...and appease his tender sensibilities."

Harry bristled a little—at being told what to do—but nodded. There was _no_ way he was going to stay on the bloody dance floor now and no way he was going to chase after the sodding Slytherin git.

NO _fucking_ way!

* * *

><p><strong>Time to Choose!<strong>

_**At this time, you can choose to either follow HARRY back to the table **_(go to chapter 32)

_OR_

_**You may instead opt to find out where DRACO has gone by accompanying Blaise Zabini**_ (go to chapter 33)

* * *

><p>Okay, I have a <strong>request<strong>, because I'm interested in the path everyone is taking. Would everyone be so kind as to either "review" their path numbers (for example:**1 – 3 – 7 – 13 – 23 – 18 – 28**)..._OR_...send it to me via PM. I'm just curious.

Further, I'm not sure if everyone is sticking to the DO NOT READ STRAIGHT THROUGH thing... *glares angrily at those who aren't following the instructions* ...and so I feel like I need to apologize for chapters that repeat themselves. Some of the chapters are quite similar. In fact, they're nearly _exactly_ the same. Or parts of them are, because, while you are able to take Harry in different directions, this really is just one story line. If that makes sense...hmm...IDK.

Anyway, thanks for continuing to read!


	22. Chapter 22

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused (see first chapter (or any chapter before prior to 14 for full instructions)).

To **Amu4ever**...sorry...I don't seem capable of leaving out at least a tiny warning. Lol. Thanks for continuing to read!

_**YOU decided that Harry should jump up and flee, like his nerves were telling him to.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-two <strong>(from chapter 13)

"I...ahh..._need_ to get out of here," Harry said, standing, then running a hand through his eternally messy hair, then waving about angrily. "Because, you _know_ what...this is _fucking_ ridiculous! I shouldn't even be out tonight. I should be at home sulking...or something...because my bloody GIRLFRIEND has _left_ me. Not _fucking_ off in some gay club!" Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his Auror identification card and tossed it down on the table. "Give me a call sometime, Dudley. I'd love to see you again, but...I need to get myself sorted before I do anything like _this_ again."

Quickly standing, Dudley pocketed the card, then reached for his cousin's shirt sleeve and held tight—not that that would keep Harry for leaving, should he choose to. After all, if Harry wished to, he could just Apparate away. Be _damned_ the consequences of doing so!

"I understand, Harry," said Dudley. "I get it. It's too soon for this. Take your time...getting sorted. But...let's not wait so long to get together again, yeah?" he asked, almost pleadingly.

Harry sighed, then shook his head. "No, you're right. Seeing you's been

great. Really."

Smiling, Dudley sighed with relief.

"And it was good seeing you again too, Gordon. Evan," said Harry, turning to look at down at Dudley's still seated friends. "I'm sorry I'm such a...wet blanket."

Gordon shrugged—but Evan grinned. "Thanks for the dance, Harry," he said. "Sorry I abandoned you out there with Blaise. Totally wouldn't have if I'd known..."

"It's fine," Harry said. "Malfoy and Zabini...we have a little history. Obviously."

Evan raised his brows suggestively. "Sounds fun."

Harry snorted. "Not _that_ sort of history! And _not_ fun," he said as he turned to look at Dudley again. "Call me, yeah?"

Dudley nodded. "Definitely."

Sighing, Harry made his way to the exit, then quickly Apparated home.

**~oOo~**

But if he thought he'd be able to sit alone and think on it all, he was sadly mistaken, because, the moment he stepped through his front door, his wards told him he wasn't alone. And, since he knew only a handful of people who could get past his wards—most, but not all of the Weasleys, Andromeda and Teddy, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom—he was fairly sure who he'd fine, probably in his drawing room.

Part of him wanted to take off again. He had a lot to think on and he _really_ didn't think he could handle outside input. Not yet anyway.

On the other hand, having support in this confusing time might be nice as well. Probably.

And so, sighing, Harry quietly shut his front door—so as to not awaken dear Walburga's pleasant portrait—and took the front stairs up to the first floor. In the drawing room, he found Ron and Hermione sitting on one sofa, Ginny across from them.

"Hiya, guys!" he said as he entered, trying hard to be cheerful—though he felt anything but at the moment. "What brings you all here...at this late, _late_ hour?" he asked, after a glance at his watch.

"_Harry_!" Hermione burst, on her feet in a second and moving toward him—quickly putting her arms around him. "We were so worried."

Harry hugged his friend back, smiling—because _she_ was always worried about him. "I'm fine, Hermione," he told her, then looked at Ron and Ginny's concerned faces, noting that they too seemed be in the same state. "Really. I _promise_."

Nodding, Ginny stood up. "All right then. I'm going to head over to mum and dad's," she said stiffly, her eyes on Ron. "So you all can...talk."

"You sure, Ginny?" Hermione asked.

Ginny went to her friend. "Ye_p_," she said, popping the p, then hugging Hermione. "I was wrong to go to you guys when Harry needs you too." She looked at Harry and smiled sadly—knowingly. "I'm sorry, Harry."

He shrugged; he didn't blame her for needing Ron and Hermione as well.

Ginny then headed to the Floo and was gone and, after a few seconds, Harry looked from the empty fireplace to his best friends. "So...what brings you by?" he asked, knowing full well that they'd been filled in.

Hermione bit her lip. "Ron stopped by earlier and you weren't home, so...we came back."

"I was out."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

"The short of it is...needed a drink, so I went out," he explained—briefly.

Looking at Harry, Ron frowned, then shifted on his feet. "So...ahh," he said, "what's the verdict? Ginny right?"

Harry sighed, then dropped into his favorite chair. "I think so...yes. I think I'm...gay," he admitted—then nodded firmly.

Both Ron and Hermione sat down across from him.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Harry?" Hermione said encouragingly. "I mean, we love you just the same."

Harry's eyes went to Ron, who shrugged and said, "Of _course_ we do, mate. Nothing could change that."

Harry let out a breath—which he hadn't known he'd been holding—and smiled. "I guess I was terrified of losing you two. I don't think I could handle that."

Hermione shook her head. "That could _never_ happen, Harry. After every thing we've been through...we're family. No matter what happens or who you're with."

"Thank you."

Both Hermione and Ron nodded—and Ron looked extremely relieved.

"How's Gin?" Harry asked next.

Hermione and Ron glanced at one another, then looked back at Harry.

"She's been...tearful," Hermione confessed. "She said she'd come to this conclusion a while back, but only just had the courage to acknowledge it and make the move. She's very upset, but she couldn't let it go any longer...for both herself and for you."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "I truly had no idea," he said, his eyes going to Ron. "I...I'm so sorry, mate."

Ron shrugged. "I liked the idea of you marrying Gin and officially being part of the family, but...I want you to be happy, mate. Plus, it would be wrong and unfair to both you and Gin if you two got married...under the circumstances. Better to realize this now. Ginny's strong; she'll survive."

Harry smiled, relieved. "I know," he said—but it felt good hearing it.

"So, now that Gin's decided to go over to the Burrow...you know you can come over, yeah?" Ron said.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

"I mean, you could have come over anyway," Ron continued, "but now you don't have to feel like you can't."

Hermione was nodding emphatically. "Exactly. She may be Ron's sister, but _you're_ our best friend..._just_ as important to us."

Ron nodded. "Absolutely. Plus, she has plenty of family to go to."

Harry laughed. "Thanks, guys."

"Don't mention it," said Ron.

"So...out? Meet anyone?" Hermione asked as she moved to sit next to her friend.

Ron frowned at his girlfriend—this sort of prying from her was...not normal. She was known to be pushy, but...she didn't usually try to force information out of people.

Harry chuckled. "I did, actually," Harry said—causing his friends' brows to raise with surprise. "Ran into my cousin, Dudley. Went out and had drinks with him and his friends. Turns out a couple of _them_ are gay, so we went to one of their clubs."

Ron just stared.

"And you'll _never_ guess who I saw there," prompted Harry, grinning.

"You went to a gay club?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "Yep! And it was an eye opener too," he said. "I mean...Merlin! A _lot_ was going on there! To be honest, it freaked me out. I came home because my brain was on overload." He sighed. He couldn't believe he was telling them all this. When he'd arrived home ten-ish minutes ago, part of him had wanted to run from this conversation. And now, here he was spewing it all.

"So...guess," he said. "Guess who was there."

His friends gave him blank looks—which looked odd on Hermione's face.

"I have no idea, Harry," she said after a second. "Just tell us."

Harry shrugged. "Okay. Zabini and Malfoy."

Ron's jaw dropped open.

"Apparently, they know my cousin and his friends," he said—then frowned. "Though, Dudley said he'd never been to a gay club, so I don't know how _he_ knew them. Sounded like...through his wife. But they never said who she is." He shrugged. "Anyway...yeah."

"Wow," was all Hermione seemed able to manage.

Ron's expression said it all though. He looked like someone had either dropped a Dungbomb in front of him or like he had a Snitch caught in his throat—or _both_!

"Did you...talk to them?" Hermione asked.

"Zabini, yes. The git sat at our table for a bit, then left with one of Dudley's friends...to dance," Harry explained. "Malfoy was on the dance floor with some guy though, so I never had to talk to him. And I took off shortly after Zabini left the table. I just...I needed to think and it's _much_ too loud in there to think," he finished, not mentioning that he'd needed to get out of there before Zabini returned with his blond Housemate.

Hermione nodded. She had loads of questions, but now didn't quite seem the time. Harry'd said he needed some time to think—and so she stood up and glanced at Ron.

"Well then, we'll go home, so you can think about things," she said, going to her boyfriend.

Both Ron and Harry frowned.

"You don't have to," Harry quickly responded. "I mean, it was too loud there, but _here_..."

"No, it's late," Hermione said, faking a yawn, then elbowing Ron when he opened his mouth to protest. "We'll talk another time. I promise. Just...you know, you shouldn't rush anything. I mean, this has only just come about tonight. I think I would step back and take a breather. Think on it. Get your thoughts in order. But...that's just me."

Harry nodded, because he knew she was doing him a favor. He needed the time and, _gotta love her_, Hermione was going to make sure he had that time—even if she had to put in her two Knuts first, he thought, amused.

Ron grinned. "Or you could just jump on in...like you're used to doing," he suggested. "I'm not saying you should jump on some bloke, mind, but...yeah."

"We love you, Harry," Hermione continued, "regardless of whom you date."

"Even if it's a snake," Ron muttered, smirking.

Harry sighed, glad that, at the very least, his best friends wouldn't hate him—no matter where he went with this. It was actually much more than he could ask for, given the circumstances and the pasts all of them shared. Part of him wanted to Apparate right back to the club and brave the uncertainty—but he wouldn't do that. Not tonight. After all, Harry _was_ smart enough to know that, when something was _this_ big—_huge_, actually—waiting was probably the better choice.

He would wait and see what happened. After all, he had plenty of time—a whole _life_ ahead of him—to figure this shite out.

**The End.**

* * *

><p>Okay, I have a <strong>request<strong>, because I'm interested in the path everyone is taking. Would everyone be so kind as to either "review" their path numbers (for example:**1 – 3 – 7 – 13 – 23 – 18 – 28**)..._OR_...send it to me via PM. I'm just curious.

Further, I'm not sure if everyone is sticking to the DO NOT READ STRAIGHT THROUGH thing... *glares angrily at those who aren't following the instructions* ...and so I feel like I need to apologize for chapters that repeat themselves. Some of the chapters are quite similar. In fact, they're nearly _exactly_ the same. Or parts of them are, because, while you are able to take Harry in different directions, this really is just one story line. If that makes sense...hmm...IDK.

Anyway, thanks for continuing to read!


	23. Chapter 23

**Choose Your Own Drarry**

**Warning**! You will NOT be able to read straight through this, chapter by chapter. If you attempt to do so, you will be VERY confused (see first chapter (or any chapter before prior to 14 for full instructions)).

To **Amu4ever**...sorry...I don't seem capable of leaving out at least a tiny warning. Lol. Thanks for continuing to read!

_**YOU decided that Harry should buck up some Gryffindor courage and force himself to stay, at least for a while, and try to figure this whole thing out.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-three <strong>(from chapter 13)

Reaching out, Harry picked up his drink and downed it, then looked around for their server. Spotting a scantily clad bloke carrying a tray of drinks, he raised a hand to get the guy's attention. The server nodded and headed for the bar. After this, Harry glanced over at the dance floor, then back at the two men with him. Both were watching him curiously.

"Here, I think you need this more than I do," Gordon said as he pushed his drink across the table to the dark-haired man, then looked at Dudley. "I'm going to go find Evan. You guys talk." And then he got up and walked into the sea of bodies.

Both Harry and Dudley watched him go, but when Dudley looked at his cousin, Harry picked up Gordon's abandoned drink and brought it to his lips.

"Harry, I know this must be...scary," Dudley began. "But I also know you'll figure it out and get through it. You always do." He reached out then and placed his hand on Harry's arm. "And I'll stand by you."

Harry nodded.

"You have friends, right?"

Harry nodded again.

"Then I'm sure they'll be there for you," Dudley said. "Or they're _not_ good friends."

"They are."

"Good then." The larger man smiled. "Then you're not going to go through this alone. You just have to be strong. And God _knows_ you're strong, Harry. After the way you've survived..._everything_." Dudley swallowed hard. He wanted to apologize yet again, but knew this wasn't the time. Harry needed his support and encouragement, not repeated apologies that were, frankly, worthless at this juncture.

"So," Dudley continued, smirking, "was it Blaise or Draco who tormented you? Be honest."

Harry's face went scarlet. "I...ahh... _Neither_," he denied. "I mean...Malfoy was a total pillock, but...there were circumstances surrounding it. Not...not desire."

Dudley laughed. "The Draco I know doesn't put much energy into something he doesn't give him pleasure."

Nodding, Harry said, "You're right there. He and his _very much_ found delight in tormenting me and mine."

Dudley leaned close. "And you and your mates never gave it back?" he challenged.

"Sure as fuck, we did!" Harry burst.

The blond grinned. "Then I'd say you two are even."

"Not hardly, but I...get your point, I suppose," said Harry, his eyes swinging over to the dance floor, where the one called Dazz was sandwiched in between Malfoy and Zabini, while Gordon and Evan danced nearby. Then, when the song ended and another started—though all the music sounded very much the same—Dazz slid out from between the others and disappeared, causing the two Slytherins to come together. Harry watched them. Malfoy threw his arms over Zabini's shoulders and the darker man's arms snaked around the blond's waist, pulling their bodies flush.

"So...those two a couple then?" he asked his cousin.

Dudley glanced over, then shook his head. "Naw. They're just...best friends. Besides, Blaise is only gay _half_ the time," he said, grinning. "Hell, he's brought just as many women over to Draco's as men. I think he's searching. As for Draco, he wouldn't touch a female with a barge pole. Not anymore."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Merlin! How do you know Malfoy anyway?" he asked.

Dudley snorted. "Funny story, really," he said. "I married his _other_ best friend."

After only a millisecond, green eyes went wide. "You're married to Pansy Parkinson?"

"Got it in _one_!" Dudley said with a laugh. "Though it's actually Dursley now. Her father nearly had a coronary about her marrying me, but..." The large man shrugged.

Harry was flabbergasted. He stared for a second, then blinked—then his eyes strayed back over to where Malfoy and Zabini were carrying on.

And then he watched Malfoy turn and walk off—heading toward the loo—and that's when Harry saw Zabini's predatory gaze turn on him. At this point, everything seemed to slow down. Harry's eyes watched Zabini's approach, then narrowed when the dark-skinned man stopped in front of him.

"Time to dance, Potter," Zabini said, extending a hand.

Harry just stared at it. "I don't dance, Zabini."

The ex-Slytherin laughed. "Wrong!" he said, grabbing Harry's hand and manhandling him from his seat, then dragging him to the dance floor.

"_Hey_!" Harry protested, pulling back.

But Zabini's grip was like a vise. "Just one dance with me, Potter," he said. "I promise it won't kill you."

Frowning, Harry allowed himself to be pulled—onto the dance floor and into Zabini's arms.

"So, Potter, didn't know you were bent," Blaise said, leering at the green-eyed man.

Harry blinked. "I'm...ahh..._not_!" he denied—but only somewhat vehemently—then frowned. "Didn't _think_ I was anyway."

Blaise tossed his head back and laughed.

"So, where'd your cohort go?" Harry asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Blaise yelled.

"Malfoy. Where is he?" Harry asked. "I saw him walk off and...you two twats were never far apart."

"You always did keep an eye on Draco, didn't you?" Blaise said with a smirk.

Harry frowned. "Did not."

Blaise snorted. "You are _just_ like Draco, you know that, Potter? _Always_ in denial."

Harry wanted to shake his head, but resisted. Instead, he ground his teeth.

"Speak of the devil!" Blaise shouted, spinning Harry around and into the arms of Draco Malfoy—who blinked in surprise.

"_Potter_?!" the blond burst with surprise as Harry slammed into his chest. "What the _fuck_, Blaise?!"

Blaise grinned, then leaned over Harry's shoulder and gave Draco a friendly peck on the lips. "Happy Birthday, Draco," he said—then kissed Harry's left cheek and pushed away from the pair, disappearing into the crowd.

Both men seemed to be completely stunned by whom they were now holding—_extremely_ closely, mind—so stunned, in fact, that neither of them were moving much.

And then the music changed, becoming slower.

"One of the rare slow ones here," the blond said as he started to move with the music. Then he smirked. "Care to continue, Potter? I promise not the bite."

* * *

><p><strong>Time to choose!<strong>

_**Should Harry stay on the dance floor with Draco Malfoy, someone he'd once considered the enemy? **_(go to chapter 20)

_OR_

_**Should Harry discontinue IMMEDIATELY, and go back to the table? **_(go to chapter 21)

* * *

><p>Okay, I have a <strong>request<strong>, because I'm interested in the path everyone is taking. Would everyone be so kind as to either "review" their path numbers (for example:**1 – 3 – 7 – 13 – 23 – 20 – 30**)..._OR_...send it to me via PM. I'm just curious.

Further, I'm not sure if everyone is sticking to the DO NOT READ STRAIGHT THROUGH thing... *glares angrily at those who aren't following the instructions* ...and so I feel like I need to apologize for chapters that repeat themselves. Some of the chapters are quite similar. In fact, they're nearly _exactly_ the same. Or parts of them are, because, while you are able to take Harry in different directions, this really is just one story line. If that makes sense...hmm...IDK.

Anyway, thanks for continuing to read!


End file.
